Isaac Levitan, 'Above the Eternal Tranquility', 1894

Like a bird soaring across the landscape, the viewer's eye surveys a desolate, empty scene by Levitan, painted on the shore of Lake Udomlia. Colouration is blocky and the palette limited, yet the landscape remains expansive and recessional, sublime and awe-inspiring. Nature is monumental and dominates here, with no human in sight. Instead, this is 'eternal tranquility', a frozen moment captured in a blissfully peaceful landscape.

Levitan was captivated by the potentiality of the Russian landscape throughout his life. Earlier works show the percolation of French Impressionism into Russian art, where a quickness of brushstroke and dappled sunlight produce landscapes including Birch Forest (1885). Equally, Levitan's final painting depicting a lake of 1900 is almost a homage to Monet with its impasto paint application and shimmering, reflective waters, far from the stillness he presents here. The painting in question, however, suggests a move towards the forms of Russian Symbolism, with a mystical and otherworldly quality. Certainly, the work becomes an 'expression of the highly spiritualised Russian landscape' as Louise Hardiman comments.

Despite the evocation of 'tranquility', the piece is also unsettling. On the lone hilltop of green, partly shielded by the trees that lean wearily over it, is a church, recognisable by its domed structure. More unnerving still is the abandoned graveyard beside it, wonky crosses starkly reflected against the milky grey waters below. There is in fact a human presence here, or there was - no longer is it a living presence. Not only does the churchyard look unkept but the winding path leading up to the structure seems unused and neglected, slowly being reclaimed by the grass that grows over the top of its fading outline. In taking a darker turn more akin to the landscapes of Friedrich, perhaps there is a social comment to be uncovered in Levitan's work. As a member of the Peredvizhniki, mobile art exhibitions in Russia beginning in the 1880s, art historians have often focused on the polemical priorities of these artists and their works, instead of aesthetic choices. Or, perhaps the 'tranquility' that Levitan presents here is the release of death, as the spirit takes off, floats across the expansive waters, and journeys beyond.

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Nicola Pisano, 'Adoration of the Magi', Pisa Baptistery Pulpit Panel

In this complex, lively, exciting pulpit panel the eye looks up towards the monumentality of the Virgin, who commands this scene. She is massive and powerful, the largest figure with thick swathes of drapery delineating her forcefully protruding knees out into the viewer's space. Seated but still retaining dominance, she defines the classicising style of Nicola Pisano, witnessed throughout the panels of his pulpit in Pisa. Many writers have described the style - Eloise Angiola for instance, refers to the 'sophisticated understanding of classical prototypes to create heroic human forms' in Nicola's pulpit. Certainly in Pisa the prominent debris from the classical past remained visible and Nicola easily had access to various ancient sarcophagi for direct emulation here. The Virgin's features with her serene expression and curled hair beneath the mantle are in fact quite androgenous. She quickly assumes the position of a monumental Roman Emperor or Senator commanding

Marianne von Werekin, 'Sunrise', 1920

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Mark Rothko, 'Light Red over Black', 1957

My eye is not drawn to the painting itself but the title of the painting, 'Light Red Over Black'. We would automatically think that the black is on top of a red background, but Rothko has flipped this around, subverting the title just like he subverting the meaning of what it was to be an artist and what Art actually was. During this time, art was going through rapid changes, with abstract expressionism coming into full force (Rothko, Pollock). But Rothko showed that all this change was for the good, even if for him, it was short lived. The colour red in this painting is searing and the black struggles to fully cover this velvety border, especially at the bottom of the canvas. Unlike the black squares which have a hazy quality to their edges, the red is clear and impregnable. It is hard to figure out what this represents - the Tate has suggested a window perhaps, but if it is a window then what are we looking out into? Perhaps it is night, or perhaps the viewer is catching a

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