This fallen fruit likely refers to the fateful apple of knowledge in Eden, key to Christian teachings on the fall of man.

With a curtain pulled aside, Vermeer evokes the hidden churches where Catholics were forced to worship in the Protestant Dutch Republic.

To ground his allegory of Catholicism in the world around him, Vermeer poses his model in a domestic space, wearing recognizably symbolic dress.

In contrast to the solid terrestrial globe at the woman’s feet, this delicate glass orb may reflect Vermeer’s vision of Heaven.

Showing God’s dominion over earth, a woman personifying the Catholic Church rests a foot on the globe. Vermeer converted in order to marry into a prominent Catholic family.

This Baroque painting-within-a-painting adds depth and drama to the scene. It may reference a Flemish work from Vermeer’s own collection.

The cornerstone of a church crushes a serpent, perhaps representing Catholicism’s victory over sin.

Why are a missal, chalice, and crucifix set up in a domestic space? Public celebration of the ritual was illegal in the Protestant Dutch Republic, so Catholics worshipped Mass at home.

Rembrandt enhances his paintings with a thick application of paint, providing a sculptural texture.

Rembrandt highlights the cuff’s dimensionality with bright white color and subtle layers of paint.

Today, many laud Rembrandt’s coarse brushwork for the realism it evokes. But this sitter, who became one of Rembrandt’s greatest critics, later complained that the master handled paint “like liquid mud on the canvas.”

Rembrandt captured his sitter’s face deformed by congenital syphilis, but with compassion. Later, the disease caused de Lairesse to go blind.

The mother’s affectionate gesture marks an emotional display rare in formal portraits of the time.

Inspired by prior Spanish occupation, the 17th-century Dutch favored fashionable black clothes.

On top, the family crests and names of both parents herald their formal union. Below, the father’s coat of arms passes down to the child.

This rosy-cheeked firstborn meets our gaze from center stage. The painting celebrates the birth of an heir.

Ter Borch’s placement of the man at right flips European tradition. Seating his wife in the position of honor at left may salute her delivery of an heir.

The new mother’s knowing gaze suggests this pocket watch could be a congratulatory gift—or a somber reminder of vulnerability. Mortality rates in childbirth were high.

Protestant reformers stripped imagery and color from churches and synagogues. De Witte often captured the resulting spare beauty of the architecture, as here.

During the Reformation, churches were not pristine sanctuaries for divine worship, but rather public spaces alive with people. Here, children scrawl graffiti on the wall.

The Reformation destroyed perhaps 90 percent of art in the Netherlands. Here, only civic emblems and coats of arms that mark burial sites remain as decoration.

A dog pees in a church. Is the scene crude? Humorous? Is it a cautionary tale? Perhaps the artist saw all of the above, encompassed in a scene from real life.

A grave yawns open at the center of the painting—a blunt reminder that mortality is unavoidable and ever-present.