Discover Masterpieces at The National Museum of Western Art in Tokyo

A Painting That Captures Monet’s Signature Atmosphere

When people think of Claude Monet (1840–1926), many imagine his famous Water Lilies series.
But Monet also created many other series — including this one: Poplars in the Sunlight, which depicts rows of tall poplar trees along the Epte River near his home in Giverny.

In this painting, a deep blue sky stretches across the canvas, while shimmering light reflects off the river’s surface.
The towering poplars in the foreground rise beyond the frame, and a tree-lined path continues into the distance.

But there’s something unusual: the perspective is soft, even ambiguous.
Edges are blurred, and shapes seem to melt into light — a classic Monet technique.
By toning down the details, he brings out the mood and “air” of the scene, letting light take center stage.

You can almost feel the cool shimmer of the water and the gentle rustle of the poplar leaves.
It’s a true “impression,” a moment captured so vividly you might hear the quiet breeze by the riverbank.

A Pond That Reflects the Sky — and Draws You In

Giverny, a quiet town northwest of Paris, was Monet’s beloved home.
There, he created a stunning “water garden” beside his house — the setting for his famous Water Lilies series.

This Water Lilies painting is one of those works.
Your eyes are first drawn to the clear blue sky reflected on the surface of the pond.
Floating lily blossoms and the reflections of trees mix together, creating a harmony of color — like a visual symphony.

Despite this richness, the painting feels calm and gentle.
The cool tones of the water and the deep colors beneath the surface aren’t precisely detailed, yet they capture the scene’s essence with surprising accuracy.
Monet painted not just what he saw, but what he felt.

The result is a quiet sense of immersion — before you know it, you’re not just looking at the painting, you’re inside it.

A Historic Piece, Purchased Directly from Monet

Here’s something remarkable:
This painting was personally acquired by Kojiro Matsukata, who bought it directly from Monet himself.

In 1921, Matsukata purchased 18 of Monet’s works at once — including this one — for a then-astonishing 1 million francs (equivalent to about 150 million yen, or over $1 million USD today).

Few people have shown that level of passion — and financial commitment — to art.
Thanks to his dedication, we’re now able to experience masterpieces like this in person.
Knowing that story might just change how you see the painting.

The Only One of Its Kind — A Legendary Water Lilies Painting Gifted by Monet

In 1921, Kojiro Matsukata visited Claude Monet in Giverny, France, thanks to an introduction from Georges Clemenceau, a former Prime Minister of France and a close friend of the artist.

During that visit, Matsukata purchased 18 of Monet’s paintings directly from the artist’s studio.
Clemenceau reportedly asked Monet to offer his friend a discount, but Matsukata politely declined.
He is said to have replied, “It would be shameful to turn friendship into money,” and instead handed Monet a check for 1 million francs.

Perhaps moved by Matsukata’s sincerity — or maybe just in one of his famously generous moods — Monet made an extraordinary gesture.
He offered Matsukata a section of his Grand Decorations, a series of large-scale Water Lilies murals meant to cover the walls of an entire exhibition room.

That piece is the one now known as Water Lilies: Reflection of Willows.

At the time, many collectors wanted to buy parts of the Grand Decorations, but Monet turned them all down.
In the end, this was the only piece he ever gave away from the series — making it truly unique in the world.

A Lost Masterpiece That Finally Came Home

Unfortunately, the painting was never shipped to Japan. Instead, it was stored at the Rodin Museum in Paris.
Then came World War II. To protect it from the fighting, the painting was evacuated to a private home in the French countryside.
However, during that time, it suffered water damage and aging-related decay — the top portion of the canvas was severely damaged.

It wasn’t until 2016 — nearly 100 years after Matsukata’s visit — that the work was finally returned to Japan and made available to the public.

Yes, it’s true that part of the painting is missing. But in a way, that damage tells a story:
A story of survival through war and disaster.
A story of Monet’s artistic spirit, Matsukata’s passion for art, and the deep history that connects France and Japan through this one extraordinary canvas.

Interestingly, art historians believe that this painting was originally the central panel of Reflections of Trees, a part of the Grand Decorations series now housed in the Musée de l’Orangerie in Paris — the compositions are remarkably similar.

Vermeer… in Japan?

Johannes Vermeer — the Dutch master known for quiet, light-filled scenes like The Milkmaid and Girl with a Pearl Earring — is one of the most celebrated painters in art history.
But did you know that a painting attributed to Vermeer is right here in Japan?

That painting is Saint Praxedis.
It’s the only Vermeer work (or possible Vermeer) on display in Japan.

Still, you might wonder at first glance: “Is this really a Vermeer?”
That’s a fair question. The religious subject matter feels quite different from the everyday domestic scenes most people associate with Vermeer.

But there’s more to the story.

In Vermeer’s time, it was common for young artists to make copies of classical masterpieces as part of their training.
Also, Vermeer had recently married into a devout Catholic family, which may explain why this early work carries strong Christian themes.

The Signature That Might Change Everything

Look closely at the bottom left corner of the painting — on the stone.
You’ll see a small but important detail:
“Meer 1655”

This is a key piece of evidence.
That signature, written in Vermeer’s characteristic style, has been scientifically dated to the same time the painting was made.
There was little reason to forge a Vermeer signature in the 1600s, since he wasn’t yet a famous or valuable name.

Even more compelling?
Analysis of the pigments shows they are authentic 17th-century Dutch materials — consistent with Vermeer’s known works.

Because of this, many experts now believe this is likely an early work by Vermeer.

In fact, during the massive Vermeer exhibition at the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam in 2023, this painting was proudly shown as an authentic Vermeer.

A Masterpiece Full of Mystery

That said, there’s still no conclusive proof.
That’s why the museum carefully labels it “attributed to Vermeer.”

But maybe that’s what makes this painting so fascinating.
It lives in the space between certainty and mystery — inviting us to question and imagine.

Whether it’s a true Vermeer or not, Saint Praxedis is a must-see for any art lover visiting Japan.

A Silent Drama Lit by Candlelight

Georges de La Tour (1593–1652) was a Baroque master known as the “Painter of the Night.”
His signature style? Quiet, candlelit scenes that feel almost sacred in their stillness.

Only about 40 authenticated works by La Tour survive today.
This painting, Saint Thomas, is one of those rare treasures — and you can see it right here in Japan.

The Doubting Apostle, Lost in Thought

The figure shown here is Saint Thomas, one of the twelve apostles of Christ.
He’s best known for the moment when he doubted Jesus’ resurrection — refusing to believe until he touched Christ’s wounds with his own hands.

Thomas was later martyred in India, reportedly pierced by a spear.
That’s why you’ll often see him depicted with a spear — a symbolic item known as an attribute.

In this painting, Thomas quietly stares at the spear he holds.
Is he reflecting on Christ’s suffering? Or is he contemplating his own future death?

His expression is calm, but not empty.
La Tour uses soft light and deep shadow to capture a moment of inner conflict and quiet faith — a “silent drama” playing out in the dark.

Only Two in Japan

There are just two La Tour paintings in Japan.
One is Saint Thomas here at The National Museum of Western Art.
The other, The Smoking Man, is housed at the Tokyo Fuji Art Museum.

Both works are filled with La Tour’s signature tension and stillness.
Take your time with them — these paintings invite you to slow down and really look.

A Quietly Powerful Renaissance Masterpiece

Vincenzo Catena (c. 1480–1531) was a Venetian painter of the Renaissance.
He’s not a household name today, but he worked alongside greats like Giovanni Bellini, Giorgione, and Titian.

Catena’s early style shows strong influence from Bellini, and around 1510, he began to experiment with Giorgione’s poetic touch.
But what truly makes Catena stand out is his unique approach — simplified forms, soft expressions, and a fresh, almost modern sensibility.

You can see this clearly in Madonna and Child with the Young Saint John the Baptist.
The painting likely dates to around 1512, based on clues like the unfinished facade of the Santa Maria Formosa Church in the background and the historically accurate design of the well.

A Painting That Grows on You

At a time when oil painting was becoming more popular, Catena chose to work in tempera — a traditional medium made with egg yolk.
This gives the piece a matte texture and soft, luminous colors, especially noticeable in the faces and fine outlines.

It’s not a flashy painting. But the more you look, the more it draws you in.
Everything feels still — as if time inside the frame has slowed down.

This kind of gentle, thoughtful work reminds us that the true spirit of the Renaissance sometimes lives not in drama, but in subtle beauty.

The Slow, Careful Brush of a Baroque Painter

Carlo Dolci (1616–1686) was a Baroque painter active in Florence.
While Baroque art is known for bold contrasts of light and dark, Dolci brought something different to the table: precision and quiet emotion.

He was famously slow — so much so that it was said he once took an entire week just to paint a single foot.
But the results were worth it. His works are so finely detailed that you can hardly see any brushstrokes. People of his time admired him for this almost photographic realism.

The Blue Veil and a Silent Gaze

In The Virgin in Sorrow, Dolci’s skill is on full display.
Look at the softness of the blue veil, the delicate hands, the flawless finish.

But the most striking element? Her face.
You can’t fully see her eyes — they’re partly hidden in shadow. That’s unusual, especially for a religious painting.

And yet, that subtle choice speaks volumes.
By leaving her expression unreadable, Dolci invites us to imagine her grief.
The silence becomes powerful — a quiet sorrow that lingers and resonates with each viewer.

This isn’t just a devotional image.
It feels personal and introspective, like a shared moment of stillness and reflection.
A masterpiece that whispers, rather than shouts — and stays with you long after you’ve walked away.

A Moment of Peace in the Sanatorium

When people think of Vincent van Gogh, many remember the tragic “ear incident” in Arles, southern France.
After that breakdown, van Gogh admitted himself to a mental hospital in Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, hoping to recover both mentally and physically.

Though his art didn’t sell and he struggled deeply, van Gogh never stopped painting.
He turned to nature—flowers, gardens, and the hospital grounds—for healing and inspiration.

This piece, “Roses,” was created during his stay at the Saint-Paul-de-Mausole asylum.
It captures one of the small, quiet beauties he discovered during his recovery.

Soft green tones fill the canvas. Pale pink and white roses bloom gently, as if floating in calm air.
Gone are the heavy outlines and bold contrasts seen in earlier works.
Here, van Gogh’s gaze is softer—simply observing, simply painting.

There’s no drama. Just a man and a flower.
This still moment of connection, brush in hand, tells its own quiet story.

Painting with Color Dots—The Magic of Pointillism

Paul Signac was a key figure in the Neo-Impressionist movement, known for perfecting the art of pointillism—a painting technique that uses tiny color dots to build entire scenes.

Unlike the Impressionists who loosely broke up brushstrokes, Signac and others took a more scientific approach.
They placed pure colors side by side, letting the viewer’s eyes do the mixing.

This large-scale masterpiece, “The Port of Saint-Tropez,” was painted when Signac lived in the colorful harbor town of Saint-Tropez in southern France.

Up close, it’s all dots—hundreds of tiny touches of pink, blue, green, and gold.
But from a short distance, a whole scene emerges: boats, buildings, calm waters, and soft Mediterranean light.
It feels like early morning… or just before sunset.

Each color changes depending on what surrounds it.
A pink next to deep blue pops. The same pink next to light blue blends in softly.
It’s as if the colors are talking to each other—a beautiful, visual conversation.

Did You Know The Thinker Was Part of a Giant Gate?

When people think of Auguste Rodin, The Thinker is probably the first sculpture that comes to mind.
But here’s something surprising—The Thinker was originally just one part of a much larger work called The Gates of Hell.

Rodin was commissioned in 1880 to design the entrance for a new museum of decorative arts in Paris.
He based his concept on Dante’s Inferno from The Divine Comedy, imagining a dramatic “gate to hell.”
The Thinker, sitting at the top of the gate, may represent Dante himself, or even Rodin in deep contemplation.

Rodin developed his idea using clay models, watercolors, and sketches.
But when the museum project was canceled in 1888, the gate remained unfinished.
Even so, Rodin kept working on it and presented a plaster version at the 1900 Paris World’s Fair.
The bronze casting was completed only after his death.

And who ordered the first bronze cast?
Kojiro Matsukata, a Japanese art collector and industrialist.

Only 7 in the World—And You Can See One in Ueno for Free

Today, only seven bronze versions of The Gates of Hell exist in the world.
One of them stands proudly in the front garden of the National Museum of Western Art in Ueno, Tokyo.
Standing 5.4 meters tall and 3.9 meters wide, it’s an overwhelming and unforgettable sight.

Best of all? It’s on outdoor display—so anyone can see it for free, no museum ticket required.

Look closely and you’ll notice over 180 sculpted figures covering the surface.
They twist, cry, and writhe in torment, representing the lost souls of hell.
At the top, The Thinker sits quietly, lost in thought—a powerful contrast to the chaos below.

When you visit Ueno, be sure to pause in front of this massive bronze gate.
Take a moment to study the details.
Even though the work was never officially finished, its intensity and emotion are still very much alive over 100 years later.

And who knows—you might find yourself becoming a “thinker” too, reflecting on the meaning Rodin poured into this incredible creation.