The Bathers

Four Tahitian women gather near a stream in this 1897 canvas by Paul Gauguin, their forms loose and unhurried among the trees. He painted it during his years in Tahiti, where he had traveled from France hoping to find a gentler kind of life. Color was clearly his joy here. The ground glows a startling pink, the foliage turns deep and moody green, and the women's skin catches a warm golden light. Gauguin never cared about painting things exactly as they looked. He was chasing a feeling instead, building a soft, dreamlike place that seems both restful and quietly strange.

As a leading name in the Post-Impressionist movement, Gauguin left a mark on much of the modern art that followed. He was drawn to ordinary island moments, people simply existing in nature, which he saw as a version of paradise. That rosy view deserves a second look, though. Life for Tahitians at the time was far messier and harder than his peaceful scenes let on. Even so, the painting has a real gentleness to it, thanks to those flat patches of color and the effortless way the figures settle into the landscape around them.