Baroque French Classicism and the Rococo 17th to 18th Centuries 

Nicolas Poussin,  'Et in Arcadia Ego' 1637-39 Oil on canvas, 185 x 121 cm Musée du Louvre, Paris
"I am here in Arcadia too"
French, Baroque (Learned to paint in Italy)

POUSSIN, Nicolas. Echo and Narcissus 1628-30
Oil on canvas, 74 x 100 cm Musée du Louvre, Paris
French Baroque

Nicolas Poussin, Bacchanal before a Statue of Pan 1631-33
Oil on canvas, 100 x 142,5 cm. National Gallery, London.
French Baroque


Antoine Watteau. L' Indifferent 1716 
Oil on canvas 10''x7'' Located in Louvre, Paris
French Rococo
Hyacinthe Rigaud 
Louis XIV 1701 
Oil on canvas 9'2''x7' Located in Louvre, Paris
French Baroque
Rococo -rocaille- (french for rockwork) semi-precious stones, seashell and mother of pearl are used to make a mosaic ornamentation.

Exists mainly in France and it is a substyle of Baroque

Lekythos with 
"Mistress and Maid" 
theme- c. 440 BC, Athens.
white-ground and 
black-figure decoration 
with touches of tempera,
15" tall 
Museum of Fine Art Boston
Classic, Greece

Muse of Mt. 
Lekythos Vase, 
5th century BCE, 10.5"

Ode on a Grecian Urn
John Keats. 1795-1821

THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal--yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearièd,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea-shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul, to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form! dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,--that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.'

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love
Christopher Marlowe c 1600

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feeds their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kittle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold'

A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.

The shepherd' swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd
Sir Walter Raleigh (1552-1618)

If all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with the and be thy love.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold,
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields;
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

Thy gowns, the shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, the kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten--
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.

But could youth last and love still breed,
Had joys no date nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.

Jean-Antoine Watteau. Pilgrimage to the Island of Cythera. 1717
oil/canvas 4'3"x6'4" Louvres, Paris
French Rococo


Jean-Antoine Watteau. Pilgrimage to the Island of Cythera
1717 oil/canvas 4'3"x6'4" Louvres, Paris
French Rococo

Nicolas Poussin Echo and Narcissus 1630
French Baroque


Jean-Honoré Fragonard, 1732-1806 
The Meeting, from Love of the Shepherds
1771-73 o/c 10'x7' New York, Frick Museum
  • 1 of 14 canvases commissioned ca. 1771 by  Madame du Barry, mistress of Louis XV, for her chateau
  • Madame du Barry refused the commission in favor of Neoclassical works

Jean-Honoré Fragonard, The Swing 1766 
Oil on canvas 35''x32''  Wallace Collection, London
French Baroque


La ci darem la mano - Don Giovanni 1787  Mozart

G: La ci darem la mano,
La mi dirai di si!
Vedi, non e lontano
Partiam, ben mio, da qui!

Z: Vorrei, e non vorrei;
Mi trema un poco il cor:
Felice, e ver sarei,
Ma puo burlarmi ancor.

G: Vieni nio bel diletto!

Z: Mi fa pieta Masetto.

G: Io changiero tua sorte.

Z: Presto, non son piu forte
G: Vieni! vieni! 
La ci darem la mano,
La mi dirai di si!

Z: Vorrei e non vorrei;
Mi trema un poco il cor.

Andiam, andiam mio bene,
A ristorar le pene
D'un innocente amor.

G: Then with your hand in mine, dear,
You'll whisper gently yes!
The castle's lord by yours dear,
Come, and lover bless!

Z: I would, and yet I would not
My breast with terror heaves:
It would be the happiest lot,
Unless this lord deceives.

G: Come, then, with me, my beauty!

Z: Masetto claims my pity.

G: I wish to change your state, love.

Z: I yield myself to fate, love.

G: Come, then! Then with your hand
in mine, dear,
You'll whisper gently yes!

Z: I would, and yet I would nor;
My breast with terror heaves.

Then come, and share with me
the pleasure of innocence and love.


Jean-Honoré Fragonard,  The Bolt c. 1778 Oil on canvas, 73 x 93 cm
Musée du Louvre, Paris
French Rococo

François Boucher, 
Brown Odalisk
Oil on canvas
Musée du Louvre, Paris
François Boucher,
Girl Reclining (Louise O'Murphy)
Oil on canvas, 59,5 x 73,5 cm
Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne