Ryan Reid
May 8, 2025
Adobe Stock
Christina’s World (1948) by Andrew Wyeth
The woman straining toward the distant farmhouse is Anna Christina Olson, Wyeth’s neighbor in Cushing, Maine. Doctors first thought Olson had polio; today neurologists point to Charcot-Marie-Tooth disease, which slowly robbed her of leg strength. She rejected a wheelchair, propelling herself with her arms—an image that stopped Wyeth mid-sketch one summer afternoon. “The challenge to me,” he said, “was to do justice to her extraordinary conquest of a life which most people would consider hopeless.”
The Starry Night (1889) by Vincent Van Gogh
Van Gogh painted this nocturne during his voluntary stay at Saint-Paul-de-Mausole asylum in Saint-Rémy. Because nighttime easels were forbidden, he memorized the dawn view, then re-imagined it—adding the cypress and an invented village—during daylight hours. In 2024, physicists analyzing the swirling strokes found they follow Kolmogorov’s equations for fluid turbulence, hinting at Van Gogh’s intuitive eye for the math of nature.
Ophelia (1851) by Sir John Everett Millais, Bt
True to Pre-Raphaelite ideals, Millais painted the background first, standing up to 11 hours a day beside Surrey’s Hogsmill River to capture every leaf and ripple. Later, artist-model Elizabeth Siddal lay fully clothed in a bathtub in Millais’s studio while oil lamps warmed the water. One session dragged on after the lamps went out; Siddal contracted a severe cold, and Millais had to cover her doctor’s bill—£50, a small fortune then.
Takeaway
Knowing the lived experiences—triumph over disability, creation amid mental anguish, or sheer dedication to realism—deepens our connection to these masterpieces. Next time you see them, look past the paint to the people, perseverance, and physics beneath.