Top 20 Paintings Of The 20th Century

Some paintings are instantly recognizable. Others slowly get under your skin.

But the best ones—especially from the 20th century—changed the way we think about art altogether.

This was the century when artists stopped following rules and started breaking them, one brushstroke (or urinal) at a time.

Pinterest pin graphic showing the most iconic and famous paintings of the 20th century

Beauty was questioned, representation dismantled, and sometimes meaning just evaporated entirely.

What emerged was a century of bold experiments, raw emotion, wild concepts, and a few masterpieces that still leave people crying, arguing, or staring in confusion.

This list rounds up 20 of the most iconic, groundbreaking, and unforgettable paintings of the 20th century. They’re in chronological order so you can see how the century develops.

Picasso, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon (1907)
Picasso, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon, 1907

Pablo Picasso – Les Demoiselles d’Avignon

📍Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York
Before Guernica, there was Les Demoiselles d’Avignon. And this one blew the doors off the art world. When it was finally shown in 1916, audiences were stunned. It wasn’t just a break from tradition. It was a full on revolt.

The painting shows five women in a brothel, their bodies sharply angled, their faces mask-like and emotionally distant. it was inspired in part by African and Oceanic art Picasso seen at the Louvre (and may have stolen!). He flattened space, fractured the forms, and stripped away any pretense of classical beauty or conventional perspective.

It’s raw and aggressive. The figures don’t invite you in. They confront you.

With its jarring geometry and sense of disruption, the painting challenged how the female body could be represented and how art could be made at all.

Though it was initially met with confusion and discomfort, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon became a turning point. It helped lay the groundwork for Cubism and set the stage for the entire modernist movement. It’s a big deal!

>>> Click here to book a MoMA ticket

Klimt, The Kiss, 1908
Klimt, The Kiss, 1908

Gustav Klimt – The Kiss

📍Belvedere Palace, Vienna
Few images from the 20th century are as instantly recognizable, or as lavishly reproduced, as The Kiss by Gustav Klimt. A highlight of his Golden Period, the painting shimmers with decorative richness and emotional intensity.

Despite its ubiquity on tote bags and souvenirs, encountering the original canvas is a joyous moment. The painting is displayed dramatically against a dark backdrop and glows with an ethereal warmth.

It depicts two figures wrapped in opulent, gold-patterned robes, locked in a tender embrace. The forms seem to dissolve into a shared aura of ornament and intimacy.

The male figure, often seen as a self-portrait of Klimt, gently cups the woman’s face as he lens in for a kiss. Her body is enveloped in his, framed almost like a gilded cocoon. Their faces lack defined eyes, keeping their emotional connection just out of reach.

The true identity of the couple remains open to interpretation. Some believe it depicts Klimt and his muse Emilie Flöge. Others point to mythological influences, suggesting it might symbolize Orpheus and Eurydice, the ill-fated lovers separated at the edge of the underworld.

Chagall, I and the Village, 1911
Chagall, I and the Village, 1911

Marc Chagall – I and the Village

📍Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York
Marc Chagall’s I and the Village is one of his most iconic and imaginative works. It’s a luminous, surreal fusion of memory, folklore, and early modernist experimentation.

Painted shortly after his arrival in Paris, the work is a deeply personal dreamscape that evokes his childhood in a Belarusian village.

The painting explores the bond between humans and animals, rural life, and the blurred boundaries between imagination and reality. Figures float, overlap, and dissolve into one another across a fractured, Cubist-inspired space. Shapes interlock like shards of colored glass, giving the surface a crystalline, reflective quality.

On the right, a green-faced man (likely Chagall himself) locks eyes with a white cow. Between them hovers a bouquet, rendered like a glowing offering. Above them, a miniature village scene drifts in the air, complete with upside-down houses and spectral figures.

The composition resists logic but pulses with symbolic meaning. It’s a portrait of a lost world. Like most Chagall’s, it’s rendered not in realism, but in the language of dreams.

Duchamp, Nude Descending a Staircase, 1912
Duchamp, Nude Descending a Staircase, 1912

Marcel Duchamp – Nude Descending a Staircase

📍Philadelphia Museum of Art, Philadelphia
Before Marcel Duchamp revolutionized the art world with urinals and bottle racks, he shocked audiences with a painting. 

Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2 caused an uproar when it debuted at the 1913 Armory Show in New York. It blends Cubist fragmentation with the visual rhythm of early animation.

Duchamp reimagined the traditional female nude as a dynamic, almost mechanical form. The figure seems to disintegrate and reassemble in motion, like frames in a flipbook, moving steadily down the stairs.

Influenced by both Cubism and Futurism, the work challenged conventional expectations of beauty, narrative, and representation.

Duchamp would soon abandon “retinal pleasure” and painting in favor of radical conceptual works. But this early painting marks a pivotal moment in art history.

O'Keefe, Black Irises III, 1926
O’Keeffe, Black Irises III, 1926

Georgia O’Keeffe – Black Iris III

📍Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Irises were a recurring subject for Georgia O’Keeffe. But Black Iris III is surely one of her most striking and iconic works.

Painted in 1926, the piece zooms in on a single blossom, magnifying it until it becomes something else entirely.

The choice of the iris wasn’t incidental. Like the Tree of Life in Klimt’s work, the iris carries religious and symbolic weight, especially in Western art.

O’Keeffe transforms it through scale and focus, highlighting folds, curves, and velvety petals most viewers would never normally notice. The result is intimate and intense, almost confrontational.

O’Keeffe has always pushed back against the long running interpretation that her flower paintings are purely female metaphors. For her, the work was about form, color, and looking closely.

Rene Magritte, The Treachery of Images, 1929
Rene Magritte, The Treachery of Images, 1929

René Magritte – The Treachery of Images

📍Los Angeles County Museum of Art
Surrealist painters weren’t terribly concerned with painterly technique. Rather, they were storytellers, philosophers, and provocateurs. For them, the idea behind the image mattered more than how it was painted.

René Magritte was arguably the most cerebral of them all. He didn’t try to recreate dreamscapes like Dalí.

Instead, he used everyday objects to construct puzzles. His goal was’t to seduce the subconscious. It was to confuse your sense of reality.

The Treachery of Images is his most famous work: a simple, clean painting of a pipe with the caption “Ceci n’est pas une pipe” (“This is not a pipe”). The point is simple but disorienting.

The image looks like a pipe, but it isn’t one. It’s just a painting. A representation.

Magritte pulls the rug out from under our assumptions. The painting forces you to question how we label and interpret the world and what we see versus what we know.

Salvador Dali, The Persistence of Memory, 1931
Salvador Dali, The Persistence of Memory, 1931

Salvador Dalí – The Persistence of Memory

📍Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York
Salvador Dalí’s The Persistence of Memory is one of those paintings that’s instantly recognizable, even if you know zero about Surrealism.

The soft, melting clocks draped over rocks and tree limbs have become a kind of shorthand for the breakdown of time and logic.

The scene is quiet, but deeply strange. A barren, sunlit landscape stretches out under a pale sky.

The foreground is filled with warped forms and ambiguous shapes. In the center lies a limp, featureless figure (possibly Dalí himself) somewhere between sleeping and dissolving.

One of the clocks is covered in ants, a classic Dalí symbol of decay. The painting plays with opposites: softness and solidity, dream and daylight, motion and stillness. Everything feels suspended in an uncanny calm.

Picasso's Guernia at the Reina Sofia
Picasso, Guernia, 1937

Pablo Picasso – Guernica

📍Museo Reina Sofía, Madrid
Pablo Picasso’s Guernica is the star of the Reina Sofía, and easily one of the most powerful political artworks of the 20th century. It was created in response to the 1937 bombing of Guernica during the Spanish Civil War.

The painting captures violence, grief, and chaos on a massive scale. It was originally commissioned for the Spanish Pavilion at the Paris World’s Fair and later became an anti-war icon.

The mural-sized canvas is packed with fractured figures, dismembered bodies, and screaming faces. The imagery is symbolic and unsettling, and Picasso left it deliberately open-ended—so you won’t find a single “right” interpretation.

Rendered entirely in grayscale, the painting feels harsh and immediate. The Cubist structure heightens the sense of fragmentation. And the lack of color keeps it emotionally stark. It’s not subtle—and it’s not supposed to be.

Today, Guernica hangs in a purpose-built room in the Reina Sofía, protected behind glass and flanked by Picasso’s preparatory sketches. Even if you’ve seen it a hundred times in books, the scale and rawness of the real thing still hit hard.

>>> Click here to book a ticket

Frida Kahlo, The Two Fridas, 1939
Frida Kahlo, The Two Fridas, 1939

Frida Kahlo – The Two Fridas

📍Museo de Arte Moderno, Mexico City
Painted during a period of personal heartbreak, The Two Fridas is one of Frida Kahlo’s most emotionally raw and symbolically rich works. It was created shortly after her divorce from Diego Rivera. It presents a haunting double self-portrait that reflects her inner fracture.

Kahlo depicts herself as two nearly identical figures seated side by side, holding hands but emotionally distant. The Frida on the left wears a European style white dress, her heart exposed and bleeding.

The Frida on the right wears a traditional Tehuana dress, referencing the identity Rivera cherished most in her. A shared artery connects them, ending in a tiny portrait of Rivera—like a relic or wound.

The painting is a meditation on duality: strength and vulnerability, self-love and self-loss, abandonment and attachment. With hearts literally on display, Kahlo merges personal pain with national symbolism. She turns private sorrow into a public, visual language.

Hopper, Nighthawks, 1942
Hopper, Nighthawks, 1942

Edward Hopper – Nighthawks

📍Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago
Nighthawks is one of Edward Hopper’s most iconic and quietly unsettling works. Painted during the early years of World War II, it captures a sense of urban loneliness that feels both timeless and distinctly American.

The scene is deceptively simple: a brightly lit diner on a dark, empty street. Inside, a few silent figures sit at the counter, avoiding eye contact.

There’s no door visible, no clear narrative. Just fluorescent light, polished glass, and the uneasy stillness of a city that never quite sleeps.

Hopper wasn’t painting a specific place. Nighthawks is imagined. But its emotional resonance is sharp and real. The painting taps into a feeling of disconnection and quiet isolation, even in a shared space.

You’re left to wonder: who are these people? Are they strangers? Lovers? Lonely souls passing time? Like much of Hopper’s work, it’s less about answers and more about atmosphere and enigma.

Jackson Pollack, Alchemy, 1947
Jackson Pollack, Alchemy, 1947

Jackson Pollock – Alchemy

📍Peggy Guggenheim Collection, Venice
Jackson Pollock’s Alchemy marks one of the first breakthroughs in his radical drip technique, a method that redefined modern painting.

Using enamel poured directly onto the canvas, Pollock turned the act of painting into a kind of physical performance.

He replaced brushes and easels with sticks, cans, and the movement of his entire body. The result was less about composition in the traditional sense and more about energy, motion, and presence.

Pollock didn’t invent abstract expressionism alone. His rise was fueled in large part by the patronage of Peggy Guggenheim, the bohemian collector who spotted his potential early.

She gave him financial support, launched his first exhibitions, and commissioned a now-famous mural for her New York apartment. It was an enormous work that signaled Pollock’s arrival as a major force in American art.

Francis Bacon, Screaming Pope, 1953

Francis Bacon – Study after Velázquez’s Portrait of Pope Innocent X


📍Des Moines Art Center, Iowa
This bacon painting is a loose, violent reimagining of Diego Velázquez’s 1650 portrait of Pope Innocent X, a masterwork of Baroque painting.

Bacon never saw the original in person at the Doria Pamphilj. Indeed, he famously avoided it while in Rome.

But he obsessed over reproductions of it. His version distorts the papal figure into a screaming, ghostlike presence confined within abstract, cage-like vertical lines.

In Bacon’s hands, the stoic authority of Velázquez’s Pope becomes something entirely different: anguished, fragile, and terrifying. The figure appears to be mid-scream, shrouded in shadow and spectral drapery, as if suspended in a moment of existential horror.

This painting marked a turning point in Bacon’s career. It solidified his reputation as a master of psychological intensity and helped define the emotional rawness of postwar figurative art.

Johns, Flag, 1954-55
Johns, Flag, 1954-55

Jasper Johns – Flag

📍Museum of Modern Art (MoMA), New York
At first glance, it’s just the American flag. But Jasper Johns’ Flag is doing a lot more than waving stars and stripes.

Built up in layers of encaustic wax and paint over newspaper scraps, the piece turns a familiar national symbol into something both literally and conceptually more textured.

Johns wasn’t interested in inventing new imagery. He wanted to make people look at what they already knew, but differently. It feels both patriotic and skeptical, celebratory and questioning.

The painting marked a turning point. It broke from the emotional splatter of Abstract Expressionism, but didn’t fully embrace Pop Art’s slick commercialism either. By choosing an everyday object with deep cultural meaning, Johns helped crack open a space for what would come next.

Flag isn’t loud, but it’s bold. It’s a quiet revolution in wax and paper, asking viewers to look again and then look harder.

Rothko room in the Phillips Collection
Rothko Room in the Phillips Collection

Mark Rothko – Rothko Room (1960)

📍Phillips Collection, Washington DC
Mark Rothko was a key figure in American Abstract Expressionism. He’s best known for his luminous fields of color: hazy rectangles stacked and layered in ways that evoke what he once described as “tragedy, ecstasy, and doom.”

Mark Rothko’s paintings are renowned for their profound emotional impact, often eliciting deep responses from viewers. Some even cry.

At the Phillips Collection in Washington, D.C., there’s a small room dedicated entirely to Rothko. It’s a brilliant curatorial space designed in close collaboration with the artist himself. It holds four deeply meditative works from the 1950s:

  • Green and Tangerine on Red (1956)
  • Ochre and Red on Red (1954)
  • Green and Maroon (1953)
  • Orange and Red on Red (1957)

Duncan Phillips created the room to be intimate and human-scaled. Still, Rothko had a strong hand in how the paintings would be seen. He helped choose the wall color, the lighting, and even the furniture. He insisted the environment should support quite contemplation.

Warhol, Marilyn Diptych, 1962
Warhol, Marilyn Diptych, 1962

Andy Warhol – Marilyn Diptych

📍Tate Modern, London
Few artists feel as quintessentially American as Andy Warhol. He wasn’t just fascinated by fame.

He chased it, turning the art world on its head by collapsing the line between fine art and commercial imagery. His mission was clear: to make the ordinary iconic and the iconic reproducible.

After Marilyn Monroe’s death in August 1962, Warhol created a series of more than 20 silkscreen paintings based on a single publicity still from the film Niagara. In this series, Monroe becomes both symbol and spectacle.

Warhol’s Marilyn Diptych is among the most powerful. It merges two of his enduring themes: celebrity and mortality.

The repeated image mimics the relentless reproduction of her face in mass media. The shift from vivid color to ghostly black and white on the right suggests her fading from life into legend, a bright star extinguished too soon.

>>> Click here to book a Tate Modern tour

Hockney, A Bigger Splash, 1967

David Hockney – A Bigger Splash

📍Tate Britain, London
David Hockney’s A Bigger Splash is one of those paintings that feels like a snapshot of a mood. Bright, clean, and impossibly cool, it captures a moment of motion frozen in a sun-soaked, postwar California dream.

Hockney had recently relocated from the UK to Los Angeles. He became fascinated by the light, the architecture, and especially the swimming pools.

This piece distills all of that into one iconic image: a mid-century house, a flat blue sky, and a perfect pool just disturbed by a sudden splash. The person is gone (or maybe just under the surface), but their presence lingers.

Hockney was interested in how to represent space and time on a flat surface, and A Bigger Splash is deceptively simple in that regard. It’s a Pop Art painting, sure, but with a deeper exploration of structure, surface, and absence.

It’s also just undeniably stylish. It captures a fantasy of leisure that feels both aspirational and oddly empty.

Yayoi Kusama, Infinity Nets (2), 1958, Yayoi Kusama Museum
Kusama, Infinity Nets, 1960s

Yayoi Kusama – Infinity Nets

📍Tate Modern | MoMA | Yayoi Kusama Museum (Tokyo)
Before she became known for polka dots and mirrored rooms, Yayoi Kusama was quietly painting her way into art history with the Infinity Nets. These large scale canvases are covered edge to edge in delicate, repetitive loops. Each hand-painted with almost obsessive precision.

The work is both minimalist and emotional. On the surface, it’s a simple pattern: pale, lace-like marks layered over a single color background. But the effect is strangely hypnotic, like staring into something endless.

Kusama once described them as “white nets enveloping the black dots of silent death.” It’s an image that captures both the fragility and the darkness beneath their calm surface.

Though Kusama never attached herself to a single movement, these paintings ended up connecting major postwar styles. They sit somewhere between Abstract Expressionism and Pop Art, while also refusing to fully belong to either.

More than just formal exercises, the Infinity Nets are deeply personal. They reflect Kusama’s inner world—her anxiety, her compulsion, and her desire to disappear into repetition.

Kiefer, Margarethe, 1981
Kiefer, Margarethe, 1981

Anselm Kiefer, Margarethe

📍Saatchi Gallery – London, UK

Anselm Kiefer is one of the world’s most powerful postwar artists. He’s known for confronting Germany’s Nazi past through monumental, emotionally charged paintings.

His work often incorporates raw materials like straw, ash, lead, and broken glass, with the canvas as a kind of battlefield of memory. Kiefer explores themes of collective guilt, mythology, and cultural decay with an unflinching eye, forcing viewers to grapple with history’s darker truths.

Margarete is part of Kiefer’s response to Paul Celan’s poem Death Fugue, which contrasts Margarete (the blond-haired German muse) with Shulamith (the dark-haired Jewish victim).

Kiefer made both Margarethe and Shulamith as companion pieces, using different materials to express the ideological divide—straw and ash, light and dark, complicity and annihilation.

Margarethe is a haunting canvas, almost monochrome, with straw embedded in thick, gray oil paint. The straw represents her blond hair and Germany’s cultural myths turned sour. It’s beautiful, but also makes you uneasy.

Kruger, Untitled, 1989
Kruger, Untitled, 1989

Barbara Kruger – Untitled (Your Body Is a Battleground)

📍Broad Art Foundation / various institutions
Barbara Kruger is best known for her bold, confrontational photo-collages that borrow the visual language of advertising to question power, identity, and media. 

Your Body is a Battleground is one of her most iconic works. And one of the most politically charged artworks of the late 20th century.

It was riginally created as a poster for a pro-choice march in Washington, D.C. The piece features a stark black and white image of a woman’s face split down the middle, one half in negative, one in positive. It’s a deliberate disruption of visual symmetry, a reference to how female beauty is both constructed and policed.

Overlaid in Kruger’s signature bold red-and-white text is the phrase: “Your body is a battleground.” The message is clear, direct, and still deeply relevant. It’s a lasting symbol of feminist resistance.

Kruger’s work forces you to stop and read. But more importantly, it forces you to think. It’s art as critique—sharp, graphic, and impossible to ignore.

Cy Twombley, Four Seasons

📍MoMA, New York

At first glance, Cy Twombly’s canvases might look like the aftermath of a toddler let loose with a crayon. Scribbles, scratches, loops of paint. It all seems so chaotic and spontaneous.

But look closer, and you’ll find something entirely different: the hand of a painter who was as scholarly as he was emotional.

Twombly’s work is steeped in classical references—Greek myths, Roman history, and poetic fragments scrawled across the surface like half-remembered dreams.

The Four Seasons is a late career triumph. Painted in 1993-94, the four massive panels capture spring, summer, autumn, and winter through Twombly’s signature gestural style.

Each canvas is a loose constellation of marks, drips, and handwritten text, evoking the cycle of time not through images, but through feeling.

The series is lush, melancholic, and strangely lyrical. Paint drips like rain or blood, phrases trail off mid-thought, and color shifts slowly from canvas to canvas.

Bonus: Wilhem de Kooning, Women Series

We can’t leave Willem de Kooning off our list of the most famous works of the 20th century. He was just as central to the rise of Abstract Expressionism as Jackson Pollock. Maybe even more so.

While Pollock poured and flung paint onto the canvas, de Kooning’s process was more physical, almost sculptural. He scraped, smeared, revised, and reworked—sometimes for years.

His canvases feel like they’re in motion. Color surges across the surface, forms stretch toward the edges, and you can almost sense the push-and-pull of his hand. There’s a constant tension between chaos and control, between raw emotion and careful balance.

De Kooning is especially known for his Women series. These paintings that are wild, aggressive, and still divisive. Woman I, the most famous of the group, looks like it’s in a state of becoming: part idol, part monster, part pin-up.

detail of Woman I
detail of Woman I

The figure is both powerful and grotesque, assembled from energetic brushstrokes that never quite settle. It’s messy, confrontational, and intentionally hard to pin down.

Each one is a variation on a theme: beauty, violence, mythology, and the sheer force of painting.

I hope you’ve enjoyed my guide to the most famous paintings of the 20th century. You may enjoy these other art guides:

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