Category: Oil paintings

  • The Credit Suisse Exhibition: Raphael, at The National Gallery, London

    The Credit Suisse Exhibition: Raphael, at The National Gallery, London

    Raphael (Raffaello Sanzio or Santi, 1483-1520), one of the key figures of the Italian Renaissance, is reborn within the National Gallery’s walls. “This exhibition [is] the first outside of Italy to encompass all aspects of Raphael’s artistic activity across his career”, the Gallery states. The National Gallery, partnered with Credit Suisse, encapsulates not only Raphael’s skills as a draughtsman and painter of oil and fresco for which he is famed, but also his accomplishments as an early archaeologist supervising excavations of ancient Rome, his architecture, and his designs for prints, tapestries, decorative art- the list continues.

    Click to view The National Gallery’s trailer, with excerpts from the exhibition.

    Raphael was the son of Giovanni Santi (c.1440/5-1494), a court painter to the prominent Dukes of Urbino in eastern Italy. Raphael had a brief career, dying suddenly at 37, yet within those years he excelled across a wide range of media, examples of which have been masterfully curated within this exhibition, charting his “phenomenal success and extraordinary energy”. Creations by the master’s hand have been honoured within 7 high-ceiling rooms of the main gallery, spanning his ‘Early Works’, which opens with Head of a Boy (Self Portrait?), c.1498 and highlights the early talent of Raphael around 15-16 years old, through to ‘Friends & Patrons’, which solidifies the legacy of a man determined to inspire human connection through his artwork.

    As Raphael develops his skill, repertoire and clients, his workshop grows simultaneously, and he selected his best students to aid him with the production of large works, a delegation technique which enabled him to create the sheer volume of work that he has amassed in his brief career, while improving the work of other aspiring artists.

    Exhibition Highlights

    One feature of Raphael’s artworks that held my gaze is his connection. Whether its the subject’s eyes fixed on the audience, staring out from the frames, or the body language between multiple figures within a composition- Raphael not only painted a representation of life, but captured a moment of it. With carefully rendered touches of hands, angles of the body, light within the eyes, Raphael longed for the connections he lost himself- losing his mother at age 8, and his father at 11. He did create those relationships, with friends, collectors, artists alike. He develops those connections with us, as we stand among the sumptuously robed figures of his larger works, and side-by-side with our fellow exhibition-goer. Raphael, through the timeless integrity of his work, continues to forge these connections today.

    I’ve placed these portraits together above to highlight how Raphael’s confidence grew along with his skill. We compare one (likely) self portrait drawn around age 16, with the later oil on wood by a more mature Raphael. From the soft medium of chalk to the vibrant and heavy oil rendered on solid wood, Raphael’s artistic decisions are bolder, notable in the contrast from the light background to his dark robes and cap which dominate the foreground and our focus. The soft shadow to the right of the wood panel exemplify how Raphael’s dexterity and his blending of contrasting oil tones has improved from earlier works, and this visible improvement continues throughout the exhibition.

    The best advice I’ve ever been given was “Paint what you see, not what you think you see”

    Indeed, Raphael said himself that “when one paints, one does not think”: the intention is to shed your preconceptions and observe the shapes and forms that fill your vision.

    Its encouraging for an artist like myself, to look back on drawings from when I was younger, looking ahead to what I’ve created since, that when skill is driven forwards with a hunger for excellence, you will improve. I can imagine Raphael’s sigh of accomplishment, stepping back from his self portrait, and I hope he thought “finally, the painting looks like me!” (or rather “Finalmente, il dipinto mi assomiglia!”, as he is Italian). Self portraits can often be the hardest to master, you’d think we’d know our own faces enough, and yet that is our downfall. If you think you know what something looks like, you forget to check your reference. You take for granted the intricacies of the human face.

    Raphael’s objective eye for details compounded the realism within his portraits and figurative pieces.

    Above left: Altoviti (1491–1557), a Florentine banker living in Rome was a close friend of the Raphael’s. He was a dedicated patron and collector of works of art throughout his life. The Venetian practice of artists was to pose the sitter as though they had suddenly turned to meet our eyes, which Raphael adopts here, creating that feeling of immediate connection I referred to earlier. The light shining across the canvas, originating from the left and casting a shadow to the right, allows Raphael to display his mastery of proportion at complex angles. Raphael surrounds the figure with a vivid green backdrop, using the same colour within the eyes and the sitter’s ring, to further emphasise the subjects piercing gaze upon the viewer, and the high regard in which Raphael held his friend.

    To the right: A tapestry from the Workshop of Pieter van Aelst (1490-1533), from a cartoon by Tommaso Vincidor (1494-1536) after design by Raphael, God the Father accompanied by Symbols of the Evangelists, c.1511, made in Brussels wool, silk and gilt-metal-wrapped thread, and on loan from Museo Nacional de Artes Decorativas, Madrid. The tapestry is directly based on the oil painting displayed next to it within the gallery, designed to form the canopy of “a magnificent bed for the room in which the pope was robed prior to ceremonies in the Sistine Chapel”, as the Exhibition literature states. The movement of the robes which surround God and the angels translates seamlessly into tapestry. Raphael was in high demand to create religious frescoes and portraits, notably for both Pope Julius II and Leo X; religion provided a steady income but also endless inspiration for the artist.

    The exhibition highlights Raphael’s ability to animate his subjects like Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519), and adapt to the “dynamic expressiveness” of Michelangelo (1475-1564). Sketches within the exhibition show Raphael’s study of these masters of the Italian Renaissance, but the chronology of his work sees Raphael earn the title of Master in his own right, adapting techniques he values from others, and making the medium of oil painting his own. Above, we see the complexity of interaction between the figures of the mother and son, further attesting to his ability to create and immortalise moments of human connection. Raphael created many variations of the Virgin and Child (also described as Madonnas) over his career. The Virgin and Child was first examined by Dr Nicholas Penny, with the findings published in the Burlington Magazine. Leading experts across Europe and America examined the painting and concluded that it is indeed by Raphael.

    On the right is detail from the full piece, highlighting the tenderness of touch, soft folds of fabric and skin, the passing of the pink carnation flowers between carefully rendered fingers. It is an intimate moment as both figures gaze at one another, the viewer observes. The domestic setting reflects Raphael’s intent to portray first and foremost the love between a mother and her child, reified by the central placement of their hands within the composition: Raphael’s primary occupation was their connection.

    And a personal favourite

    “Raphael was generous towards other artists throughout his career and provided designs for several of them to work from.” At first glance I thought this drawing was incredibly detailed for a preliminary sketch, and it was then I learnt this drawing was sent to a friend and fellow artist of Raphael, Domenico Alfani (about 1480/5-after 1553). Raphael sent this highly finished drawing from Florence to Domenico Alfani in Perugia, near central Italy, who used it to create an altarpiece in 1510, formerly in the church of Santi Simone e Giuda, Perugia. It was before creating the painting that Alfani added the grid, squaring up the drawing to transfer and enlarge the proportions. The drawing is another example of Raphael’s excellence in creating narratives between the characters, as eyes and hands, robes and limbs seem to continue their course of movement, even after the artist has finished his process.

    I sincerely hope you can make it to the exhibition- the careful curation, lighting, colours and textures make you feel the pure joy that Art should make one feel, as the artist is reflected in his work. Raphael’s appreciation for the tenacity that is required to develop a talent is inspirational for any creatives and art lovers alike.

    Raphael is on at The National Gallery from 9 April – 31 July. Tickets are  £24 for adults.

    There are a range of events at the Gallery and online to celebrate the exhibition and the artist, for example, Drawing and Mindfulness: Raphael as a draughtsman, Raphael: Universal Artist Weekend Conference, The Linbury Lecture: Patricia Rubin. Details and other events can be viewed here.

    I’m stood in front of a large scale reproduction print of Raphael’s The School of Athens, a fresco painted between 1509 and 1511. It was a part of his commission to decorate the rooms in the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican- the rooms are now known as the Stanze di Raffaello.

  • The Degree Show exhibition: Reading, UK

    The Degree Show exhibition: Reading, UK

    Four years of Art and English Literature have culminated in the Degree Show exhibition, the finale to my dissertation and artworks: Welcome to the ‘Thornton House Museum’, an immersive installation of a Victorian drawing room, based on the 1854 Victorian Industrial Revolution novel North and South, by Elizabeth Gaskell.

    Laura Rozamunda Allsopp-Huddle, 2022, Thornton House Museum, Mixed Media Installation

    The story of class struggle and the resilience of the human spirit has been brought to life: through large oil paintings I rendered on canvas, a clay bust sculpture, collected antiques and the production of an audio guide- explore the Museum for an intimate insight to Gaskell’s creation and the power of communication during conflict.

  • Paris: Musée du Louvre

    Paris: Musée du Louvre

    A post of its own; the Louvre, the highlights, and a race to the Mona Lisa before closing!

    I fell in love with the Louvre before even entering, the architecture is just incredible, and we had a lot of fun inside!

    It is said that nothing ever lasts. And yet, standing tall in all its glory, is this beauty. Once a Palace for French kings, the Louvre was transformed into a public museum following the French Revolution of 1789. It later became the playground of emperor Napoleon I, who briefly named it after himself, AND it was seized by the Nazis to store stolen art in World War Two.

    view from the upper levels of the Louvre, across the courtyard to the left wing of the museum

    After staring meticulously at all the canvases on the first few levels of the Louvre, three hours have passed so quickly. Looking out of the windows, the sun had moved right across the courtyard, lighting the opposite wing of the palace, which glistened after the rain.

    The Highlights

    Below I’ve included the artworks which I spent the most time with, absorbing all those carefully placed or quickly rendered details. A brilliant painting is like a clear night sky; the longer you stare, the more stars appear.


    François Gérard (1770–1837), Cupid and Psyche, 1798, Oil on Canvas. In Greek and Roman mythology, and many other depictions of the story, the couple must overcome countless obstacles, until they are finally joined in a sacred marriage, through which their love transcends mortal suffering. The little butterfly above Psyche’s head alludes to the presence of the soul. In Greek mythology, and in the modern language today, Psyche is Greek for Soul. As in antiquity, the image of a butterfly represents the soul’s ability to leave the body and to transition to eternal life after death. Souls bond in sacred marriage, and here the souls deliver Cupid and Psyche to a state of eternal love.
    William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825 – 1905) painted The First Kiss which depicts Cupid and Psyche as children. A print of this painting hangs at the head of a hallway in my family home, perhaps why I was so drawn to Gérard’s piece above. For more of Bouguereau’s work, you must visit the Musée d’Orsay. He paints radiant skin like no other.

    At the highest level of the palace, the guard sounded the last call for closing. I felt rather satisfied with the amount of colour and narratives we’d absorbed that day, but I still felt that something was missing. Had I lost my boyfriend somewhere?

    No, he was by my side. Dropped my bag? Nope, that was on my shoulder, I thought, tapping it. Then it dawned on me, as the guard ushered us towards the exit, I’d forgotten the most iconic smile.

    We ran through grand halls, centuries worth of artworks, and I resisted the urge to stop and stare so many times, to finally reach the lower level and La Gioconda, (the Italian name for the Mona Lisa. La Gioconda translates to ‘jocund’ (happy) literally, ‘the jocund one’, and her portrait is rendered on a 77cm × 53cm wooden panel, from the poplar tree. The poplar seems to feature often in the works we know and love; Monet himself was inspired to create many versions of the tall and delicate poplar trees which lined various stretches of the Seine river

    The lady who posed as Mona Lisa is likely to be to be Lisa del Giocondo, (1479–1542) hence the title La Gioconda, an Italian noblewoman and member of the Gherardini family of Florence and Tuscany.

    Smile, and she smiles back
    Did you know?

    🌟 The Mona Lisa belongs to France : After Italy’s Leonardo da Vinci’s death in Amboise, France, the artist’s assistant Salaì inherited the work and sold it to France’s King Francis I for 4,000 gold coins. (May 2, 1519)
    🌟According to research, engineer Pascal Cotte discovered that the Mona Lisa did have eyebrows and eyelashes: but they were probably the one of the last things Da Vinci added to the her face, and since all the cleanings the painting has undergone, and general aging, they have faded so that they are barely visible to the human eye.
    🌟 It would take you around 100 full days to see all of the Louvre, and that is if you only spent 30 seconds on each piece.


    It is hard to put into words just how vast, and ancient the experience is; Exploring these hallways and galleries allows us to glimpse at past civilisations. It brings to the forefront the morals, the beauty and the values of our societies, some which have changed for the better, others which people fight to preserve.
    Thank you to all those who help to preserve it; restorers, curators, janitors, security, and sales staff.

  • Goya and Picasso: An artistic analysis in Madrid

    Goya and Picasso: An artistic analysis in Madrid

    Comparative guide to Picasso’s Guernica and Goya’s The 3rd of May 1808

    The 3rd of May 1808, painted in 1814 by Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes[1] and Guernica created by Pablo Picasso[2] in 1937, are both deeply significant works of art, the two depicting harrowing scenes of warfare in Spain. However, Goya depicts a particular event from the Napoleonic Wars: over 120 years earlier than Picasso’s of the 1937 bombing of the Basque town of the same name. Despite such a passing of time and developments in history, the two works are united over their subject of similar tragedy. Further analysis of the paintings, such as their uses of light, colour and iconography illuminates the themes and motivations for such recordings of historically significant events impacting art and society alike.

    Immediately, certain formal properties can be distinguished within Goya’s and Picasso’s artwork. The two share a sense of upheld tradition in that they are two-dimensional canvas pieces. Visual, the emphasis is on the immediate effect of looking, unlike a 3-dimensional sculpture for example. This rendering to a flat, large surface suggests an attempt to produce a work to not only be observed, and perhaps from a distance due to its scale, but also to be placed upright, on a wall; Picasso was commissioned a mural specifically, and Goya’s painting for the royal collection would be presented in this fashion. They would both be secured so that they may be preserved. There is the intent to survive, to become or to mark a legacy. This is emphasised by their large scale, with The Third of May standing tall at a height of 268 cm, and a width of 347 cm. Picasso’s Guernica measures at 349cm high and 776 cm wide. The sheer size creates grandeur and affect; no doubt a representation of the subjects of the pieces, which extend much further than the physical constraints of the canvas. To stand in front of these works is to be absorbed, one must stand back far enough to physically witness the narrative as a whole, and this distance creates a feeling of reverence as the viewer creates space between themselves and the artwork, out of necessity and an element of respect.

    The composition of Goya’s The Third of May is painted with oils, with careful consideration to a sense of reality. Goya employs focal shortening, with the figure on the ground, for example, laying towards us. His body interacts with the viewer. The diagonal angle at which the French soldiers to the right are stood creates further depth, adding not only to the realism of the scene, but suggesting this towering barricade of ammunition is an ongoing impenetrable force. It emphasises the victimisation of the scattered civilians to the left. The palace behind recedes into the background, rendered desolate with dark grey and browns, with a tone abandonment highlights the action in the foreground.  The brushstrokes in the work are quick, rather expressionist.             

     And though the Romanticised scene pleads sympathy for its subject’s, Goya evidences in this loose painterly style- no doubt influenced by his predecessor Velazquez[3]– that his brushwork shifts away from a Romantic perfection. It reflects painting which captures the specific moment, and each movement with it. This is further evidenced by the title of the work, claiming a very specific day, month and year within history.

    Similarly, Guernica’s composition reflects this similar sense of action through semi-abstract depiction of the amputation of limbs, disproportions, collages of light and dark areas to create a structure. Picasso overlays linear characters, the different faces and bodies directed in various ways, leading the viewers eyes to dart around the painting. However, there is definite focus on the bull and, with the other characters positioned as looking at them. Texture is added with collaging of wallpapers and emulsion paints, and sketches which remain visible on the surface.[4] There are limbs that don’t seem to belong to any one character, and it is difficult to perceive whether the scene is placed inside or outside, as the diagonal lines don’t seem to create this depth of field. This adds to the disorientation of the viewer’s gaze when looking at the chaos within the work.

    These elements of composition link next to the powerful control and manipulation of light in both paintings. For example, in the Third of May the only light source is that of the lantern at the foot of the French soldiers, illuminating the victims to the left and particularly the man in the white shirt and tan trousers. Goya’s use of Chiaroscuro adds drama and contrast; the light focuses attention immediately on these civilians who have been executed and lay dead, and the man standing with arms outstretched in surrender to his fate. In Guernica, this same focalisation is created by control of light: the eye which looms above the scene suggests the presence of this illumination. The manmade bulb in place of the eye’s iris is provocative iconography, referencing the overhead bombing, and technology in warfare. The torch held by the figure emerging from the dark grey areas is the main source of light in the work, forming a triangle of light in the painting. As the characters rely on the source of light to illuminate the events below in order for it to be decipherable, it suggests a responsibility of the viewer and the artist to shed light on and understand this difficult subject matter. It is an abstracted view of reality which distorts figures and faces, and removes a normalised sense of space, to the point where it is difficult to locate or situate the work. Ambiguous in whether it is day or night, indoor or outside which adds to the effect of a chaotic and distorted scene. There is no real sense of time, as suggested by the contrast of dark and light in such close proximity to each other, and the background diagonal lines create the possible illusion of a ceiling. This chaos is representative of the subject, emphasised by the woman to the far right of the painting, who appears to be engulfed in flames: fires burned for three days after the bombing in Guernica.

    Light impacts details such as colour and tonality. For example, in The Third of May, the man upon whom the light is focused wears white- a symbol of purity and echo of his innocence- and his skin and colouring are clearly depicted. In this detail there is an indent in the palms of the man’s hands, similar to that of Jesus’ wounds, or ‘Stigmata’ during his Crucifixion[5], reiterating the innocence of the man in white. Furthermore, the faces of he and his fellow citizens are illuminated and turned towards the viewer, therefore given individual identities. However, the French soldiers are all alike: the same stance, colouring and turned facing away, facial features are ambiguous. Unlike their weapons, which are rendered in great detail. Detail of the executioners also focuses on uniforms: formal and rigid. As is their arrangement: heavy, austere, grey and black. This contrasts the loose-fitting, naturalistic dress of the condemned man and those who lay slain across the ground, bleeding vivid red blood. The red and warmth of colour creates empathy for these people, to show patriotism, as this warmth and imperfection of dress humanises them in comparison to the dark greys and black with which the foreign soldiers are painted.  The Third of May’s pigmentation is strong but is of a limited palette of earth tones, with the exception of those red trails of blood. Guernica is also of a limited palette: the shapes are decipherable as human and animal figures, though comprises of cool toned blue and grey colours. Picasso began to create the mural after seeing the black and white photos of Paris’ media coverage of the bombing, the pain in these photographs is portrayed for example through the silent screams of the mother, horse and outstretched hands. In Goya’s Third of May the crying mother holding her child, to the left of the painting is also portrayed in Guernica and suggests Goya’s influence on Picasso’s work. Other elements of iconography is Picasso’s inclusion of domesticated animals – the horse and the bull which are typically used by humans for agriculture and farming suggest the animals’ presence in the town, as it was bombed and the animals’ suffering is too by the hands of men.

    Significant context of the two artworks is also a consideration of the artists’ motivations. The Third of May was created in 1814, six years after the event. “Goya did not paint his picture in 1808, his imagination fired by recent atrocity”- unlike Picasso’s immediate production of Guernica in response to the news headlines. Instead, Goya waited and tactically suggested this commission to the restored Spanish monarchy in 1814, requesting that he may record, “our glorious insurrection against the tyrant of Europe.”[6] Moreover, as Goya had produced portraits of French nationals during Napoleon’s reign, it could be argued that he intended to clear suspicions of his collaboration with the French, with the Second and Third of May. Goya’s artistic and social impact was surely better served as a seemingly neutral figure during changing leaderships: to remain able to critique generally, rather than claim allegiance to a deposed party, essentially lowering himself to the mercy of he who held the power, and the gun. Perhaps Goya’s self-conflict is reflected in the bowed head of the man, witnessing the execution, and his fellow onlookers, who refuse to watch.

    This could suggest a neutrality perceived as cowardness: heads are hung, eyes averted, in shame of their reluctancy to intervene or aid their fellow countrymen being murdered. But again, they are unarmed. They are ill equipped to deal with such a force as Napoleon It did mark the overthrow of Napoleon in Spain, however, and called to an era of enlightenment, with its painterly loose brushwork, and unusually graphic and gruesome scene. The painting’s placement next to its counter-work The Second of May 1808, 1814, and other conflicts, brings into consideration the familiarity of today’s society with images of bloodshed, standing in the gallery immersed in it. It considers how the shocking bloodshed was received in a pre-photographic era, before the constant desensitisation from imagery in the media.

    As Picasso and contemporaries pioneered the Cubist movement, his creation of Guernica recorded another major but much darker development, which redefined warfare in the modern world: the bombing of Guernica was not only significant because of the destruction of the town and the lives lost, but it was “the first total destruction of an undefended civilian target by aerial bombardment.”[7] The Spanish Civil war from 1936 to 1939 is “burned into the European consciousness” foreshadowing the onslaught of Total war, a horrific form of modern warfare. In Guernica, Picasso paints his patriotism (from afar) and empathy of the strategized suffering of innocent citizens.

    The legacies of both artworks were established shortly after their creations: Goya’s being held by the Royal Collection, Madrid, 1814; and entered the Prado Museum, before 1834. It’s presence in the Prado National Gallery in Madrid asserts its position as a vital memory in Spain’s cultural history.  In this same ‘canonisation’ of significance, Guernica is placed centrally in Room 206.6 at the Reina Sofia, reflecting the artwork’s significance in 20th century history both the gallery’s value of the artwork. The tapestry created by Jacqueline de la Baume Dürrbach[8] of Guernica now hangs high in the United Nations, an image of terror shown as a reminder, a symbol for peace.  Both The Third of May and Guernica capture Spanish civilians’ suffering due to vicious international relations, and the continuous inhumane treatment of one’s fellow man, though over a century apart.

    Bibliography:

    Baudelaire, Charles. Curiosités esthétiques. Paris: Michel Levy, 1860. Translated by Jonathan Mayne as Art in Paris 1845-1862. Oxford: Phaidon, 1965.

    Berger, John (1965). The Success and Failure of Picasso. Penguin Books, Ltd. p. 175. ISBN 978-0-679-73725-4

    Fremont-Barnes, Gregory. The Napoleonic Wars: The Peninsular War 1807-1814 (Essential Histories). 1st ed. Oxford: Osprey Publishing, 2002.

    Hughes, Robert. Goya. London: The Harvill Press, 2003.

    Hughes, Robert. “The Artist Pablo Picasso.” Time, June 8, 1998. http://content.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,988489-1,00.html. Accessed 25 March 2020

    Editorial, “In Praise of … Guernica.” The Guardian, March 26, 2009. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2009/mar/26/pablo-picasso-guernica-spain-war.

    Murray, Christopher. “The Third of May 1808-1814”, in Encyclopedia of the Romantic Era, 1760-1850. New York: Taylor and Francis, 2004. pp. 1133–1134

    Preston, Paul. The Spanish Civil War: Reaction, Revolution and Revenge. London: Harper Collins, 2006.

    Thomas, Hugh. Goya: Third of May 1808. Illustrated. University of Michigan: Viking Press, 1973.

    Higgins, Charlotte. “Picasso nearly risked his reputation for Franco exhibition.” The Guardian. UK: Guardian News and Media (28 May 2010).  https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2010/may/28/picasso-franco-exhibition Accessed 27 March 2020.

    Philip Delves Broughton, “Picasso not the patriot he painted”, The Sydney Morning Herald, 19 May 2003. Accessed 25 March 2020

    https://www.museodelprado.es/coleccion/obra-de-arte/el-3-de-mayo-en-madrid-o-los-fusilamientos/5e177409-2993-4240-97fb-847a02c6496c

    https://www.museoreinasofia.es/en/collection/artwork/guernica

    https://guernica.museoreinasofia.es/en#introduccion

    https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2015/oct/04/goya-in-hell-national-gallery-portraits


    [1] The 3rd of May 1808 in Madrid, or “The Executions” GOYA Y LUCIENTES, FRANCISCO DE. Copyright ©Museo Nacional del Prado (subsequently referred to as Third of May within the essay).

    [2] Guernica, 1937, Pablo Picasso.

    [3] Velazquez, influence of Goya’s style.

    [4] https://guernica.museoreinasofia.es/en#introduccion

    [5] Hugh Thomas. 1972. Goya: The Third of May 1808.

    [6] Christopher Murray Encyclopedia of the Romantic Era, pp.33

    [7] Robert Hughes, Goya.

    [8] Editorial, “In Praise of … Guernica.” The Guardian, March 26, 2009. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2009/mar/26/pablo-picasso-guernica-spain-war.Advertisements