National Gallery of Art

Georgia O’Keeffe was a woman before her time. She took abstraction and made it personal. She found beauty in the small, the imperfect—in the curves of a flower, the vastness of a desert. But despite her profound talent, she faced skepticism from male critics who dismissed her work as overly feminine, sexualized, or decorative. They failed to recognize the depth and complexity of her artistic vision. But O’Keefe persevered. She refused to let gender norms and societal expectations define her art. She continued to assert her identity as a painter of unparalleled skill and vision. . . . . 📷 Alfred Stieglitz, “Georgia O’Keeffe,” 1929/1932, gelatin silver print, 4 x 3 in., Alfred Stieglitz Collection 🌺 Georgia O’Keeffe, “Jack-in-the-Pulpit No. 3, 5, and IV,” 1930, oils on canvas, Alfred Stieglitz Collection, Bequest of Georgia O’Keeffe

In this painting, René Magritte does what he does best: he takes our familiar world, breaks it into pieces, and then reassembles it… As one of the leading figures of the surrealist movement in 1920s Paris, Magritte’s approach mirrors one of the group’s fundamental principles. The surrealist manifesto, a multi-page written declaration drawn up by André Breton in 1924, states their aim was to “liberate the mind by subverting rational thought and giving free reign to the unconscious.” That’s why the figure and horse in this painting are somewhat familiar to us: Magritte ingeniously distorts what would be an ordinary scene by creating an optical illusion. He tricks your eye by combining separate elements into one complete image, transforming a horseback rider into a dreamlike vision. 😵💫💫 In doing this, Magritte not only takes us out of our world, but exposes how absurd our everyday world can be. __ 🖼 René Magritte, “The Blank Signature,” 1965, oil on canvas, 32 x 25 in., Collection of Mr. and Mrs. Paul Mellon #magritte #art #painting #explorepage

Our collection belongs to the American people. That’s why we’re sending some of our artworks out of DC, directly into communities across the country. We’re excited to continue our Across the Nation program, a long-term loan initiative bringing masterpieces from the National Gallery to a museum near you. Our goal is to make art more accessible than ever before. Recently, some of the most celebrated works from our collection took a special journey to the Figge Art Museum in Davenport, Iowa, where young artists can now study and savor them in person. This program is made possible through the generous support of the Mitchell P. Rales Family Foundation, which will bring works of art like these to Americans around the country for generations to come.💙

And just a week after filming this...we cleared every Webby category we were nominated in and even snagged two People’s Voice Awards 🏆🏆🏆🏆🏆 Huge love to everyone who voted for the museum and the Rizzler. Yall really showed up and left no crumbs 💖

You may have seen Robert Indiana’s iconic LOVE design. But do you know the bittersweet story behind it? Before Robert Indiana was Robert Indiana, he was Robert Clark, born in 1928 and adopted by an Indianapolis couple. During the Great Depression, he watched as his adoptive parents’ finances cratered and their marriage fell apart. By the age of 17, he had lived in over 20 different homes across Indiana, long after his parents had divorced. Even as he endured a tumultuous childhood, Robert Clark showed signs of being something special. Despite moving from home to home, he held on to a steady passion for art. And when he graduated high school, he offered a gift to his teachers: intricate watercolor illustrations on parchment, in the style of medieval illuminated Bibles. After high school, he enlisted in the Air Force—it was a door to opportunity. After three years of service, through the GI Bill he was able to study art and literature. He then moved to New York City, soon changing his last name to stand out from the crowd and honor his roots. Now Robert Indiana, he found success as an early creator of Pop Art, exploring the power of words, numbers, and bold geometric forms. But he had no idea what kind of fame was on the horizon. Indiana’s LOVE design began as a simple Christmas card he sent to friends. Then he spent years reworking it into drawings, paintings, and sculptures—eventually scoring the opportunity to create one for the Museum of Modern Art. But why LOVE? It wasn’t just a clever design. It was personal. Around that time, Indiana was grieving the loss of his father and going through the end of a relationship with fellow artist Ellsworth Kelly. Robert Indiana’s LOVE design went mainstream in 1973 when the U.S. Postal Service released a Valentine’s Day stamp—over 425 million were printed. The design became an international icon, leading to large-scale sculptures worldwide. One version, in Spanish, stands in our Sculpture Garden. In the art world, Indiana faced some accusations of “selling out.” But he reminded people that he wasn’t the one cashing in—he made just $1,000 for the stamp. Meanwhile knockoffs flooded the market. He eventually left New York and spent the final years of his life creating art in small-town Maine. He passed away in 2018, leaving behind a legacy built on yet exceeding one simple, profound word: LOVE.

John Singer Sargent was fascinated by high-intensity sleeping long before it was a trend. It was theme he painted many times throughout his long career. And his extraordinary technical skill and access to elite society made his portraits some of the most talked about in the late 1800s Victorian era. But in 1909, he got sick of the “vanities of prominent sitters.” He gave up his thriving portraiture career and decided to travel around the world painting landscapes. __ 🖼 John Singer Sargent, “Nonchaloir (Repose),” 1911, oil on canvas, 25 x 30 in., Gift of Curt H. Reisinger 📍 Our West Building, Main Floor, Gallery 70

The National Gallery has been nominated for FIVE Webby Awards - aka the Oscars of the Internet - for our socials and website! 🏆✨ Now we need the squad to pull up. Cast your vote in The Webby Awards categories below and help us bring one home! Best Instagram Account: https://bit.ly/4c7uxYa Best Website: https://bit.ly/48sjHcM Best Arts & Culture (Rizzler) Series: https://bit.ly/4tCM7ZH Best Cultural Blog: https://bit.ly/4mnQeqp Best Vertical (Rizzler) Video: https://bit.ly/4ei6I15

They weren't wealthy. They lived modestly. But together, this working-class couple collected over 4,000 works of art, leaving a national legacy. Dorothy Vogel was a librarian. Her husband, Herb, was a postal clerk. Over the course of decades, while working their day jobs, they filled their one-bedroom Manhattan home with art. When the Vogels first married in the 1960s, they spent their weekends exploring New York City's gallery scene. Soon they began bringing home art that spoke to them. They had no idea they were planting the seeds of a world-class collection. The Vogels found so much joy in collecting, they decided to make a radical change to their lifestyle: They'd devote all of Herb’s earnings to purchasing art, and they’d live on Dorothy’s income alone. “I paid the bills," Dorothy recalled, "and Herby was the mad collector who bought the art.” They were drawn to abstract, minimalist, and conceptual art. And despite their limited means, the couple offered budding artists financial support, along with encouragement and friendship. Some of these artists eventually became world-renowned, like Sol LeWitt and Richard Tuttle. Their collection became enormously valuable, but they never sold a thing. The Vogels saw themselves as caretakers. Their passion wasn’t for profit but for purpose. By the 1990s, their apartment was overflowing with art. “There was this mountain of wrapped art,” said Jack Cowart, former curator at the National Gallery. “Crates on top of crates on top of boxes...” In 1992, the Vogels decided to donate the bulk of their collection to the National Gallery, for all people to enjoy. They gave the rest away to museums across the country. It took five moving trucks to transport the vast trove they had lovingly assembled in that small apartment. “Their legacy is not defined solely by the art they owned, but by the spirit in which they gave,” says Eric Motley, the National Gallery’s deputy director. “Quietly, selflessly, and with faith in the power of art to elevate the human spirit.”

You deserve some flowers today, especially on the first day of spring 🫱 So here’s a painting made in 1660 by Jan Davidsz de Heem, brought to life by animator Andrey Zakirzyanov (not made by AI, because AI could never). 🌹 Back in the 17th century, artists followed a pretty strict formula for flowers: symmetrical bouquets, short stems, no overlapping petals. But De Heem broke the rules by letting his flowers spill and intertwine in a way that made his work feel alive. He even took it a step further by mixing flowers, fruits, and insects from different seasons. The end result is a fantasy garden, a world of beauty for all to enjoy. 🖼 Jan Davidsz de Heem, “Vase of Flowers,” 1660, oil on canvas, 27 x 22 in., Andrew W. Mellon Fund 🎥 Animation designed by Andrey Zakirzyanov

On a day often defined by celebration, Dorothea Lange’s photographs offer something rarer: a quiet, deeply human portrait of Ireland inviting us to pause, reflect, and connect with the everyday lives behind St. Patrick’s Day. In 1954, Lange traveled to rural County Clare to document daily life for Life magazine’s St. Patrick’s Day issue, observing, “There is no sense of hurry… no urge to buy more and more… A contented and relaxed people live on this island.” 📷 Dorothea Lange, "Sunday Mass at St. Mary’s, Ennis, Ireland," 1954, gelatin silver print, 8 1/16 × 7 7/8 in., Gift of Daniel Greenberg and Susan Steinhauser 📷 Dorothea Lange, "Man walking down a country road from the Kenneally family farm, County Clare, Ireland," 1954, gelatin silver print, 12 5/16 × 10 1/4 in., Gift of Daniel Greenberg and Susan Steinhauser 📷 Dorothea Lange, "Man walking down a country road from the Kenneally family farm, County Clare, Ireland," 1954, gelatin silver print, 10 7/16 × 8 7/16 in., Gift of Daniel Greenberg and Susan Steinhauser 📷 Dorothea Lange, "Patrick Flanagan on Tubber Green, County Galway, Ireland," 1954, gelatin silver print, 8 1/2 × 7 3/4 in., Gift of Daniel Greenberg and Susan Steinhauser 📷 Dorothea Lange, "Nora Kenneally, widow, County Clare, Ireland," 1954, gelatin silver print, 8 7/8 × 11 1/4 in., Gift of Daniel Greenberg and Susan Steinhauser 📷 Dorothea Lange, "Irish child, County Clare, Ireland," 1954, gelatin silver print, 10 × 10 in., Gift of Daniel Greenberg and Susan Steinhauser #art #history #explorepage