Art Eyewitness Review: Van Gogh's Sunflowers at the Philadelphia Museum of Art

 

Van Gogh's Sunflowers

Philadelphia Museum of Art 

June 6 - October 11, 2026

Reviewed by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd and Ed Voves

Two of Vincent van Gogh's paintings are currently hanging side-by-side in Gallery 251 at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. The Colket Gallery 251 is a relatively small display space and the two paintings by Van Gogh are the only actual works of art currently on view there. The accompanying wall text is complemented by several illustrations of other sunflower paintings by Van Gogh. 

That's all you'll see in Gallery 251, making this a perfect example of what museum curators call a "focused exhibition."

The two paintings, depicting earthenware vases filled with sunflowers, rank very high among Van Gogh's masterpieces. Moreover, each of these oil paintings is a signature work for their home museum, the National Gallery, London, and the Philadelphia Museum of Art (PMA).

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2026)

 Van Gogh's Sunflowers at the Philadelphia Museum of Art (PMA)

 The Sunflowers from the National Gallery (London) appears at left;

at right, the Sunflowers from the PMA collection.

Van Gogh's Sunflowers are presented simply, even modestly, together. There is no room for elaborate or intriguing display techniques in Gallery 251. Nor is there any need. These powerful works of art - dare I say "icons" - can speak for themselves. And they do speak, directly to us and on several levels of communication.

The two Sunflowers in Gallery 251 date from the Dutch painter's sojourn in Provence, 1888-1889. Technically speaking, these paintings are very much of the still-life genre. Nature morte is how they would be described in French. Dead nature.

Ed Voves, Photo (2026)

Gallery view of Van Gogh's Sunflowers at the PMA

Very few people crowding into the PMA's Gallery 251 would, I think, categorize either of the two Sunflower paintings as examples of "dead nature." 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2026)

 Gallery view of Van Gogh's Sunflowers at the PMA. Illustrations of all seven of   

Vincent van Gogh's Sunflowers are shown here.

These remarkable works of art and five other paintings of sunflowers were executed in two bursts of creative energy. The first occurred in August 1888, with Van Gogh painting four works intended to decorate the Studio of the South in Arles. All four were painted within the span of a single week.

Later, following the disastrous break with Gauguin, Van Gogh painted three additional Sunflowers in January 1889. These were repetitions of the earlier works from the summer, done from memory!

The seven Van Gogh Sunflowers confound their status as still-life paintings. Yes, they are depictions of flowers, severed from their roots, and placed in a vase. Yet, as the two paintings on view in Gallery 251 demonstrate, they exude a life force that is palpable.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2026)

 Vincent van Gogh's Sunflowers from the PMA collection

Standing in front of the Philadelphia Museum's Sunflowers can be an uncanny experience. There is a sense of "being" to the painting, difficult to locate but very much there. It is like feeling the presence of another person or creature before you see them. 

 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2026)

 Gallery view of Van Gogh's Sunflowers at the PMA

In the case of one of the August 1888 Sunflowers, the work itself no longer exists. The version with a striking dark blue background had been purchased by a Japanese admirer of Van Gogh in 1920. During the final days of World War II, this Sunflowers was destroyed in the bombardment of Osaka by the U.S. Air Force.

Ed Voves, Photo (2026)

A color photo, taken in 1921, of Vincent van Gogh’s Sunflowers,1888.

 The original painting was destroyed in 1945 during World War II.

Incredibly, an early color photo had been taken of the Sunflowers before its destruction. The photo was then lost from view for decades. In 2013, the art scholar, Martin Bailey, discovered the photo while researching his book on Van Gogh, The Sunflowers are Mine.

Ed Voves, Photo (2026)

Gallery view of Van Gogh's Sunflowers at the PMA

Van Gogh's Sunflowers pack incredible power in whatever configuration they appear. These astonishing works of art also show that the emotional highs and lows of Van Gogh's life did not determine the quality - and quantity - of his paintings. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2026)

Van Gogh's Sunflowers from the National Gallery (London) collection

The National Gallery's Sunflowers, arguably the most important of the entire series, was painted in August 1888. When Van Gogh set to work on the initial group of Sunflowers, he was in an optimistic mood and at the height of his powers. Plans for the Studio of the South were underway and he was about to paint the luminous Starry Night on the Rhone  and Cafe Terrace at Night.

Van Gogh was in a very different frame of mind in January 1889, when he painted a trio of "renditions" of the summer 1888 Sunflowers. The resulting paintings restated the earlier works without being exact copies. The Philadelphia Sunflowers evokes the version in the Neue Pinakothek Munich, one of the first of Van Gogh's paintings to enter a major museum collection. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2026)

 Color illustrations contrasting the Sunflowers from the Neue Pinakothek Munich, 1888 (at left), with the PMA's Sunflowers, 1889

Despite the anguish of his time in the mental hospitals of Arles and St. Remy, Van Gogh continued to make plans for new paintings and arrangements of his work.

In a May 1889 letter to Theo, illustrated with a quick sketch, Van Gogh outlined his plans to use his Sunflowers to greater effect.

Van Gogh explained that he intended to use two of the paintings in tandem with a portrait of the wife of Joseph-Etienne Roulin, the postal inspector from Arles. The triptych. would evoke the reverence to motherhood accorded to the Virgin Mary, albeit arranged in a more secularized format.

With either the Munich or the PMA version to one side and the National Gallery painting on the other, Madam Roulin is placed in the middle. She is shown holding the rope used in rocking an infant's cradle, earning her the title of "berceuse." This can be translated as "lullaby" or singer of a lullaby.

Vincent van Gogh, La Berceuse, 1889

 Courtesy of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC

Van Gogh never had the opportunity to publicly display his triptych. That had to wait until 2024, when the National Gallery in London celebrated its bicentennial.  

The British art community had been slow to appreciate the Impressionists and Post-Impressionists, including Vincent van Gogh. As the 100th anniversary of the venerable museum on Trafalgar Square approached in 1924, the National Gallery's director, Charles John Holmes, determined to rectify the situation.

With the financial support of the textile magnate Samuel Courtauld, Holmes entered into negotiation with Van Gogh's sister-in-law and guardian of his oeuvre, Jo van Gogh-Bonger. The complicated incident is best described in the recent biography of van Gogh-Bonger by Hans Luijten.

When the ink dried on the contract, the National Gallery had succeeded in purchasing Sunflowers and another Van Gogh masterpiece, Van Gogh's Chair. The Van Gogh family was handsomely paid for its treasures. Happy ending!

For its 200th anniversary, the National Gallery mounted Van Gogh: Poets and Lovers. The highlight of the show was the exhibition of the Sunflowers/La Berceuse triptych.  Van Gogh's dream had finally come true.

Yet, Van Gogh would likely have found grounds for comment, if not complaint. Of necessity, the curators at the National Gallery had to display the three paintings in their ornate frames, set at spacious intervals. Van Gogh conceived the arrangement much more simply, the three works grouped closely together.

Anne Lloyd, Photos, left & right (2026)

 An imagined view of Van Gogh's Sunflowers/La Berceuse triptych

To provide closure, I created an imaginative digital display more in keeping with Van Gogh's conception, as outlined in his letter to Theo.

The National Gallery has sent its Sunflowers to help the Philadelphia Museum of Art celebrate its 150th anniversary. Jennifer Thompson, the PMA curator of the exhibition, wisely decided against attempting the triptych format again. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2026)

 Jennifer Thompson, curator of Van Gogh's Sunflowers

Thompson, recently promoted to Deputy Director of Collections and Exhibitions at the PMA, is one of today's great scholars of Impressionist and Post-Impressionist art. She well knows the "back-story" of the Philadelphia Sunflowers.and the importance of allowing this masterpiece to tell its side of the story.

Unlike London, Philadelphia during the 1920's had plenty of Post-Impressionist paintings. Unfortunately, the majority of these works were in the collection of Dr. Albert Barnes. These were "off-limits" to everyone, except the students enrolled in the Barnes Foundation. We won't repeat this controversial story here, but suffice to say that lovers of Van Gogh's paintings had little to see at the PMA until Carroll S.Tyson Jr. came to rescue.

Tyson (1878-1956) was a cousin of John Singer Sargent. A business and civic leader in Philadelphia, Tyson was also a very accomplished artist. His paintings of American bird species gained him such acclaim that his carefully selected art collection was hardly noticed. Upon his death, Tyson's Impressionist and Post-Impressionist masterpieces were donated to the PMA.

With Renoir's Great Bathers, Cezanne's Millstone in the Park of the Chateau Noir and Van Gogh's Sunflowers hanging on its walls, the PMA now ranked as one of the greatest collections of French 19th century art.

With paintings of this caliber from the Tyson Collection, it seems almost a sacrilege to present them except in the direct, unpretentious manner with which the PMA's Sunflowers is currently displayed. The same is true for the National Gallery Sunflowers by its side.

Van Gogh said that he wished to create "a symphony in blue and yellow" with his Sunflowers. He certainly achieved that goal. But, in addition, he managed to capture the golden sun of Provence and added it to his palette. 

Ed Voves, Photo (2026)

Gallery view of Van Gogh's Sunflowers at the PMA

Painting on Size 30 canvas sheets, Vincent van Gogh created the two astonishing works of art now hanging on the walls of Gallery 251 of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. The sun light of Provence is shining from them still.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved.

Original photography: Copyright of Anne Lloyd and Ed Voves, all rights reserved.

Introductory Image: Vincent van Gogh’s Sunflowers. At left, is the National Gallery, London, Sunflowers, August 1888. At right, the Philadelphia Museum of Art’s Sunflowers, January 1889.

Anne Lloyd (2026) and Ed Voves (2026) Various gallery views of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, Colket Gallery 251.

Anne Lloyd (2026) Vincent van Gogh’s Sunflowers, August 1888. Oil on canvas: 36.2 x 28.7 in. (92.1 x 73 cm) National Gallery (London).

Anne Lloyd (2026) Vincent van Gogh’s Sunflowers, January 1889. Oil on canvas: 36 3/8 x 28 in. (92.4 x 73.1 cm) Philadelphia Museum of Art collection.

Anne Lloyd (2026) Color illustration of Vincent van Gogh’s Sunflowers, August 1888. Oil on canvas, mounted on panel: 36 1/4 x 28 3/8 in. (92 x 73 cm.) Neue Pinakothek, Munich, collection.

Ed Voves, Photo (2026) Color illustration of Vincent van Gogh’s Sunflowers, August 1888. Oil on canvas, mounted on panel: 38 9/16 x 27 1/8 in. ( 98 x 69 cm.) Destroyed 1945 in Allied bombing of Japan. This color photo was published in 1921. Archives of Mushakoji Saneatsu Museum, Tokyo.

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-1890) Excerpt of a letter to Theo van Gogh, from St. Remy, Provence, on or about May 23, 1889. Wikimedia Commons: Letter 592. (Letter is listed as #776 in Vincent van Gogh, a Life in Letters, published by Thames & Hudson, 2020. 

Vincent van Gogh (Dutch, 1853-1890) La Berceuse (Woman Rocking a Cradle, Augustine-Alix Roulin, 1851-1930) Oil on canvas: 36 1/2 x 29 in. (92.7 x 73.7 cm.) Metropolitan Museum of Art, NYC.

Art Eyewitness Essay: American Visions, 1776-2026

 American Visions, 1776-2026 

Reflections on the 250th Anniversary 

of the U.S. Declaration of Independence

Commentary by Ed Voves

Original Photography by Anne Lloyd and Ed Voves

The 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence of the United States is at hand. Or to give the occasion its full, official title, the Semiquincentennial.

In the mind of most Americans, Independence Day - July 4th - is America's birthday. Other dates figure prominently in the story of the Declaration of Independence. I will have a few comments on these events later in this essay.

What Semiquincentennial really means is a lot of candles on the U.S.A.'s birthday cake!!

I wish to extend to America - and to my fellow Americans - many "regards of the day." By way of a present, I have made a small selection of works of art which I believe can be cherished by all on this 250th anniversary of the birth of modern democracy in 1776.

What kind of works of art or actual examples should I place in my gift box for the Semiquincentennial?

Traditionally, a patriotic painting like Emmanuel Leutze's Washington Crossing the Delaware would have an honored place inside. I highly esteem this iconic work. So, it would seem, do a lot of art fans visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I have never seen the gallery featuring Washington Crossing the Delaware without enthusiastic admirers gathered around it.

Ed Voves, Photo (2022) 

A gallery view of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, showing

 Emanuel Leutze's Washington Crossing the Delaware, 1850

Leutze's Washington Crossing the Delaware, however, is as much a European work of art as an American one. Leutze (1816-68) was born in Germany, came to the U.S. as a child and then returned to Europe for a number of years. An ardent believer in democracy, Leutze painted this stirring, if inaccurate, depiction of the American Revolution to show his support for the abortive 1848 Liberal uprisings in Europe.

Mythic history, however impressively handled, is not what I have in mind. Instead, I found my first choice a couple of galleries from where Leutze's mighty narrative is displayed in the American wing of the Met. 

By comparison with Washington's patriot band, Jerome B. Thompson's The Belated Party on Mansfield Mountain hardly qualify as "pioneer stock." But for insight into the American identity, this genre painting has a great deal to say.

Ed Voves, Photo (2022) 

Jerome Thompson's The Belated Party on Mansfield Mountain,1858

Thompson specialized in creating depictions of pleasant outdoor occasions, especially those going by the title of "pic nic." Sure enough, these intrepid members of "Young America" have scaled the highest mountain of Vermont, Mount Mansfield, with a wicker basket full of provisions.

Having made it to the mountain top, the protagonists of Thompson's painting can now look out in the favorite direction of nineteenth century America - to the west.  Flowing across this impressive oil on canvas is a thin silvery, gold line, the shimmering waters of Lake Champlain. Beyond, in the far, far distance, is the real frontier. Trouble is brewing there - "Bleeding" Kansas. 

Ed Voves, Photo (2022) 

Detail of Thompson's The Belated Party on Mansfield Mountain,1858

The year is 1858. But these appealing young people need not be concerned - yet. 

What I find fascinating about this painting is the time of year in which it is set. It certainly is not late winter or fall - no sign of autumn foliage down below. Nor is it the spring. May and June are the Black Fly months in Vermont when hordes of these pestiferous insects invade the North Woods. By the look of the early evening sky, the Summer Solstice is past, but recently so. The month, according to my observations, is July.

Looking at The Belated Party on Mansfield Mountain, I believe these good folks with the picnic basket have scaled Mount Mansfield to celebrate the Fourth of July. There, they can bask in the glory of God's creation, reflect on the freedoms won by America's 1776 Revolution and hope for the best.

The clock, however, is ticking. One of their party holds-up his pocket watch to remind his friends that light is fading and they still have to climb down Mount Mansfield to get home safely. Most likely, Thompson included the detail of the pocket watch as a moral lesson - tempus fugit, time passes. 

There is a possibility that Thompson was warning Americans that they were living on borrowed time. The next year, 1859, time ran out and the once-United States began to unravel. John Brown's "raid" on Harpers Ferry was followed a year later by the secession of the Southern states, then Fort Sumter and on and on...

The "belated party" who journeyed to the top of Mount Mansfield were fated to experience the horrors of the American Civil War. When - if - they survived, an invaluable treasure was there to help them rebuild their country and their lives.

This was the Declaration of Independence. The Declaration was a shared, sacred legacy, an article of near-religious faith and a living, active force in achieving the "new birth of freedom" proclaimed by Lincoln at Gettysburg.

For many Americans today, the Declaration of Independence is still "all of the above."

The Declaration of Independence, 1776

The Dunlap Broadside

Divided into two sections, the immortal words of the preamble and the long list of grievances justifying independence from the British Crown, the Declaration may seem to suffer from a "split" personality. The Declaration of Independence is undeniably a masterpiece of political expression. But can it be esteemed as a work of art? Is it an act of creative genius?

Yes to both questions, as I hope to show.

The Declaration of Independence

Comparison of the title and preamble in the Dunlap Broadside (top)

and the William Stone engraving (1823) of the Engrossed Copy

The Declaration of Independence exists in four basic formats:

• The Dunlap Broadside. As soon as the final, edited Declaration of Independence was ratified on the morning of July 4, 1776, the text was taken to the Philadelphia print shop of John Dunlap. There it was typeset into a proclamation or broadside. Next morning, couriers were sent riding to carry 200 printed copies to the state legislatures, to Washington's army and to supporting Patriot organizations. On July 8, the first public reading was held in Philadelphia and, next day, Washington had the text proclaimed to his troops, positioned to defend New York.

• The Engrossed (handwritten) Copy of the Declaration of Independence was commissioned by Charles Thomson, Secretary of the Second Continental Congress on July 19, 1776. The text was transcribed onto parchment with superb penmanship by Timothy Matlack and signed by most members of Congress on August 2, 1776. The Engrossed Copy was not originally intended for public display, the signers' names (except for John Hancock) remaining anonymous.

• The Goddard Broadside is the rarest version of the Declaration of Independence, only nine copies remain. After Washington's victories at Trenton and Princeton, Congress ordered authenticated printed copies of the Declaration with the signers' names included. A woman printer active in the Patriot cause, Mary Katherine Goddard of Baltimore, was tasked with the job. In an act of defiance to British authority, she printed her own name at the bottom.

• The final version of the Declaration of Independence, printed nearly a half century after the events of 1776, is, in its way, the most remarkable. After decades of constant exposure, the Engrossed Copy, penned by Timothy Matlack, was fading away. In 1820, John Quincy Adams, the U.S. Secretary of State, commissioned an engraver, William Stone, to try and make a facsimile. Working quietly for three years, Stone produced a copper plate engraving whose fidelity to the original was astonishing. No one has ever figured out the transfer technique used by Stone to achieve such accuracy. 

The Declaration of Independence, 1776

The Engrossed Copy, handwritten by Timothy Matlack

The Declaration of Independence

The William Stone engraving (1823) of the Engrossed Copy

From these brief summaries, it is clear that the Declaration of Independence was never a "one and done" event, signed, sealed and delivered on July 4th. It was a dramatic train of decisions, actions and results, occurring over an extended period. The courier carrying the Dunlap Broadside did not reach Charleston, South Carolina until August 2, 1776. That was the day when most of the delegates of the Continental Congress actually signed the Engrossed Copy of the Declaration in Philadelphia.

The drama of the Declaration of Independence continues to this day. Safeguarding life and liberty require constant vigilance. 

Significantly, there are no ironclad guarantees of happiness in the Declaration.

Nor can we evoke or depict the "pursuit of happiness" in a single, July 4th image. 

However, after the Civil War, the idea and ideals of happy American childhood took hold. This was the age of Mark Twain's Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Louisa May Alcott's Little Women and the barefoot boys and apple-cheeked girls in Winslow Homer's 1870's paintings.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Winslow Homer's Snap the Whip, 1872

Originally, I intended to place Homer's Snap the Whip in my Semiquincentennial gift box. It seemed a fitting choice and a perfect illustration of happiness, however elusive it may be. Instead I chose a picture of another barefoot youngster, a 12-year old girl from Vermont. Taken by Lewis Hine in August 1910, this photo would seem to have nothing to do with happiness. 

Lewis Hine, Addie Card, 1910

Lewis Hine, the courageous sociologist who used his photographic skill to document the dangerous conditions related to child labor, took approximately 5,000 such photos. The terse documentation which Hine included with each photo often sounds perfunctory, almost dismissive.

Anaemic little spinner in North Pownal cotton mill. see photo No. 1056. Location Vermont.

Hine initially did not include the girl's name in his notes. He frequently worked in threatening conditions, menaced by angry factory managers and security guards. But an assistant did secure details of her identity: Addie Card, aged 12. She had begun working in the cotton mill at the age of 8, during the summer vacation, and now was employed full-time.

Lewis Hine, Addie Card (detail), 1910

As Hine's photos and reports began to be released - along with those of other like-minded reformers - a remarkable social shift in America occurred. And this is where the "pursuit of happiness" clause made its presence felt, once again. 

Young children had worked under brutal conditions since the dawn of time. In the bondage of slavery and serfdom, in the grinding conditions of chimney sweeps and match girls, children had suffered and often died. But in the U.S. there were words proclaiming the right to "pursue" happiness. It was deemed an essential part of life, especially in the lives of children.

Hine's Anaemic little spinner became a revelatory image for the social reform movement in the United States. Hine's photos contributed mightily to the passing by Congress of the Fair Labor Standards Act of 1938. 

In 1998, the U.S. Postal Service issued a series of commemorative stamps documenting twentieth century America. Hine's photo of the Anaemic little spinner was one of the images used. 

Researchers, with much effort, traced Addie Card's life history. She had changed her name to Pat (disliking Adeline) and lived to 1993. "Grandma Pat", her descendants said, was completely unaware of the photo which had so benefited the lives of America's children.

The lives of all Americans changed to an incredible degree from the summer evening when the Belated Party relaxed at the summit of Mount Mansfield to when Addie Card had her photo taken in 1910. 

A great urban revolution occurred, eclipsing Thomas Jefferson's vision of America as a nation of self-sufficient farm families. In 1860, less than twenty percent of U.S. citizens lived in cities. By 1910, the figure had more than doubled. Today, the urban population of the U.S. is approximately eighty-three percent. 

How can one illustrate such a transformation with a single image? The closest one can come, I think, is Berenice Abbott's photograph, New York at Night, 1932.

Abbott set to work on the shortest day of the year when darkness comes early to Manhattan. She positioned her camera in an upper-floor room of the Empire State Building and set the film exposure for fifteen minutes. That way the lens could adjust to the darkness, enabling Abbott to take the picture before the office lights were turned-off.

For a brief quarter of an hour, the world stood still. Abbott waited and then she recorded the indelible image of New York City, of the modern day American city.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Berenice Abbott's New York at Night, 1932

In terms of photographic technique, I don't have much to add. Abbott's genius speaks for itself.  

Yet, this photo exerts such magnetic power that I want to keep looking into it. Down and down, further and further, focusing my eyes until I am able to peer into the windows and behold the people therein.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Berenice Abbott's New York at Night (detail), 1932

There is a spiritual essence to this photo, as well. To my eyes, each of those lights represents a human soul, the soul of a citizen of the U.S.A. and a citizen of the Planet Earth.

Each of these souls is "endowed by their Creator with unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."

Today is July 8, 2026. Two hundred fifty years ago, on July 8, 1776, Col. John Nixon of the Pennsylvania Militia proclaimed the words of the Declaration of Independence for the first time. Nixon spoke to a throng of anxious citizens gathered before the building now called Independence Hall.

It would not be long before the audience listening to the words of the Declaration of Independence would be all of humankind.

William Anders, Earthrise-Apollo 8 - Dec. 24, 1968

May these words continue to be proclaimed and practiced, for as long as the World shall live.

***

Introductory Image. Ed Voves, Photo (2022)  Jerome B. Thompson's The Belated Party on Mansfield Mountain, 1858. (Detail, full citation below)

Ed Voves, Photo (2022)  Gallery view of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, showing Emmanuel Leutze’s Washington Crossing the Delaware, 1850.

Ed Voves, Photo (2022)  Jerome B. Thompson's The Belated Party on Mansfield Mountain, 1858. Oil on canvas: 38 x 63 1/8 in. (96.5 x 160.3 cm.) Metropolitan Museum of Art.

The Declaration of Independence, The Dunlap Broadside. United States. In Congress, July 4, 1776. A declaration by the representatives of the United States of America: in general Congress assembled. Philadelphia: Printed by John Dunlap, 1776. The Morgan Library and Museum. PML 77518

The Declaration of Independence, The Engrossed (handwritten) Copy. Copied by Timothy Matlack. Manuscript on parchment page. Original resource at: U.S. National Archives and Records Administration. Digital image downloaded from Library of Congress website. Library of Congress control # 2021667571

The Declaration of Independence, The William J. Stone engraving (1823) of the Engrossed Copy. Third printing from the William Stone copperplate engraving of the Declaration of Independence that was carried out by the Bureau of Engraving and Printing in 1976. Digital image downloaded from National Archives website. National Archives control # 1656604

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Winslow Homer's Snap the Whip, 1872. Oil on canvas: 12 × 20 in. (30.5 × 50.8 cm) Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Lewis W. Hine (American, 1874-1940) Addie Card (Anaemic little spinner in North Pownal cotton mill. see photo No. 1056. Location Vermont.) Photographic print from glass negative: 4 x 5 inches. National Child Labor Committee collection, Library of Congress: LC-H51- 1056

U.S. Postal Service. Celebrate the Century: Child Labor Reform - 1910s, 1998. (Image of Addie Card by Lewis W. Hine)

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) Berenice Abbott's New York at Night, 1932. Gelatin Silver Print: Image and sheet. 13 3/8 x 10 5/8 in. (34 x 27 cm.) Philadelphia Museum of Art.

William Anders, Earthrise-Apollo 8 - Dec. 24, 1968. Photo ID:68-HC-870. Image credit: NASA.