LONDON — What does socialism look like when earnestly perpetuated by extraordinarily wealthy benefactors sorely lacking in self-awareness? One answer might be found in Radical Harmony: Helene Kröller-Müller’s Neo-Impressionists at the National Gallery. This can be seen both in its selection of works from Helene Kröller-Müller’s Pointillism (or more correctly, Neo-Impressionism) collection, and in the exhibition’s commercial supporters. Our friends Griffin Catalyst, which is stewarded by a billionaire CEO and Trump backer, once again serves the people an exhibition in which critical curation takes a back seat.
Kröller-Müller was born into a German family of industrialists, married a Dutch entrepreneur, and moved to the Netherlands in 1888. After becoming widowed, she inherited the business and became one of the wealthiest women in the Netherlands. She amassed 11,500 works and the world’s largest collection of Neo-Impressionism, and acquired 90 works by Vincent van Gogh, often buying directly from the artist and close relatives. She eventually opened her own museum, stating that the works looked “monumental in a museum, more beautiful than in a room.” The wall labels also venture that “the aims this remarkable collector hoped to realise shared Neo-Impressionism’s socialist ambition: by widening access to works made through a radical quest for harmony in art, the world might become a better place.” Ah, the idealism of excessive wealth.
Neo-Impressionism is explained as the application of dots of opposing colors together, so that they become more vivid, as opposed to mixing colors on a chromatic scale and applying them with complete freedom of brushstroke. While radical in theory, this prescriptive method is thoroughly restrictive to the point of banality, as viewing so many examples en masse proves. Individual hues may “pop” to the eye, but images are confined to flat linearity, almost like “coloring in” sections, as opposed to building up painterly layers as traditional modeling allows.
Seascapes should be brilliantly vivid celebrations of light — but, as in Jan Toorop’s “Sea” of 1899, they appear insipid here, as the method is inadequate for capturing depth and thoroughly lacking impact. The rare exceptions prove the point: While van Gogh’s “The Sower” (1888) employs opposing yellow and blue, his use of longer, layered strokes infuses the work with thrilling dynamism. And Georges Lemmen’s 1890 portrait of Jan Toorop varies the size of the “dot,” again to exciting effect. The majority of the rest of the works here, though …. Just think about how a dot is by nature one-dimensional. Regardless of their number, in this format, they will only ever form a collection of dots.
Jan Toorop, “Sea” (1899), oil on canvas
Much is made of the politically radical — “socialistic” — iconographic content, such as Jan Toorop’s depiction of workers in “Evening: Before the Strike” and “Morning: After the Strike” (1899–90), or Maximilien Luce’s rendering of workers in “The Iron Foundry” (1899). At least the wall text for the latter notes that, despite buying direct from the artist, Kröller-Müller’s husband, “without any apparent sense of irony,” hung it in the office of his iron ore and shipping business. This absurdity infuses the whole show, which exists because a wealthy benefactor — despite “supporting” the producers by buying from the artist direct — unironically chomped up all examples of an art movement that on paper represents socialist politics but is in itself technically prescriptive and stifling of deviation.
Add to this the decidedly perfunctory curating — there is a room called “The Silent Picture” dedicated to domestic pieces, which argues that this particular technique communicated a sense of isolation, though it’s more an inadvertent effect if you ask me. And add to that the fact that this whole show was perpetuated by commercial supporters such as the philanthropic venture Griffin Catalyst, and the whole show feels more about commerce than curation.
Georges Lemmen, “Jan Toorop” (1886), conté crayon and white chalk on paper
Maximilien Luce, “The Iron Foundry” (1899), oil on canvas
Jan Toorop, “Morning (After the Strike)” (c. 1888–90)
Georges Seurat, “Port-En-Bessin, a Sunday” (1888), oil on canvas
Installation view of Radical Harmony: Helene Kröller-Müller’s Neo-Impressionists
Radical Harmony: Helene Kröller-Müller’s Neo-Impressionists continues at the National Gallery (Trafalgar Square, London) through February 8, 2026. It was curated by Julien Domercq, Chiara Di Stefano, Renske Cohen Tervaert, with Annabel Bai Jackson and Christopher Riopelle.
Editor’s note 9/18/25 5:23pm EDT: A previous version of this article stated that Helene Kröller-Müller “amassed 11,500 works and the world’s largest collection of Neo-Impressionism, and acquired 90 works by Vincent van Gogh, buying directly from the artist.” The wording his been clarified to reflect the fact that she often bought directly from the artist or close family members.
