Two Sisters (On the Terrace), 1881 Pierre-Auguste Renoir (1841-1919)

We create our paintings with museum quality and covering the highest academic standards. Once we get your order, it will be entirely hand-painted with oil on canvas. All the materials we use are the highest level, being totally artist graded painting materials and linen canvas.

We will add 1.6" (4 cm) additional blank canvas all over the painting for stretching.

High quality and detailing in every inch are time consuming. The reproduction of Pierre-Auguste Renoir also needs time to dry in order to be completely ready for shipping, as this is crucial to not be damaged during transportation.
Based on the size, level of detail and complexity we need 8-9 weeks to complete the process.

In case the delivery date needs to be extended in time, or we are overloaded with requests, there will be an email sent to you sharing the new timelines of production and delivery.

TOPofART wants to remind you to keep patient, in order to get you the highest quality, being our mission to fulfill your expectations.

We not stretch and frame our oil paintings due to several reasons:
Painting reproduction is a high quality expensive product, which we cannot risk to damage by sending it being stretched.
Also, there are postal restrictions, regarding the size of the shipment.
Additionally, due to the dimensions of the stretched canvas, the shipment price may exceed the price of the product itself.

You can stretch and frame your painting in your local frame-shop.

Once the painting Two Sisters (On the Terrace) is ready and dry, it will be shipped to your delivery address. The canvas will be rolled-up in a secure postal tube.

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The paintings we create are only of museum quality. Our academy graduated artists will never allow a compromise in the quality and detail of the ordered painting. TOPofART do not work, and will never allow ourselves to work with low quality studios from the Far East. We are based in Europe, and quality is our highest priority.

A red hat, soft as a poppy, sits like a bright exclamation mark against all that breathing green. Beneath it, the older girl turns slightly toward us in her deep blue flannel, while her gaze slips past our shoulders, elsewhere. The younger child, tucked close and lower, arrives with that sudden, unstoppable presence children have – as if she has just run in from the sun and decided to stay.

Renoir sets them on a terrace at Chatou, where he spent much of the spring of 1881, and lets the place behave almost like theatre. Behind the nearly life-size figures, the landscape flutters into a painted reverie: river, trees, pale sky, and small boats that barely hold their shape. Depth is there, but it is not the point. What matters is the sensation of air, the mild warmth you can almost feel on skin, the faint rustle one might imagine from the leaves.

Look at how he handles color, and you begin to see the trick. That red hat doesn’t just “go with” the scene; it energises the whole canvas, waking up the pinks in the girls’ cheeks and the rose notes scattered in the basket below. The younger sister’s cornflower-blue bow and clear, bright eyes find an answering chord in the older girl’s dress, so the composition ties itself together like a ribbon.

Technically, Two Sisters (On the Terrace) is a little feat of balancing opposites. Faces and hands are coaxed into softness, yet the background is built from brisk, broken strokes that dissolve branches into light. A detail I love: the railing behind them is drawn with quick, cool lines, and the climbing stems skim across it like calligraphy, refusing to sit still. In the left foreground, the sewing basket is more than domestic decoration; it reads like a painter’s kit, stuffed with intense pigments – reds, blues, greens – as though Renoir is quietly showing you where his world comes from.

They are not really sisters, and perhaps that matters less than the feeling of companionship staged here: older calm, younger sparkle. Renoir, at his most Impressionist, gives you joy without insisting on innocence. It’s consoling, yes – but also shrewd about how quickly a day, and a childhood, can slip into memory.