Gezicht op delft

Marcel Proust saw this in The Hague and wrote to a friend that he had seen the most beautiful painting in the world. When it came to Paris in 1921 he went again, ailing, and then put the visit in his novel: the writer Bergotte collapses and dies in front of it, eyes fixed on a little patch of yellow wall, repeating to himself that this is how he should have written.

Vermeer painted his hometown around 1660–1661 from an upper window across the harbour: the gates and quays in shadow, a few small figures waiting by the water, and behind them the tower of the Nieuwe Kerk catching full morning sun. A painter of quiet rooms, he left only two cityscapes, and this is the great one — the clouds alone are worth the trip to the Mauritshuis, where it has hung since the Dutch state bought it at auction in 1822.

Go find the yellow wall. People have argued for a century about which patch Proust meant.