Modeste Leclercq

Modeste Leclercq never left Paris, yet spent years painting the Seine’s grey-green light on blank canvases. One afternoon in 1842 he turned a café napkin into a tiny oil sketch—flat planes of ochre and slate—and signed it before forgetting where he’d left the sketchbook. Look for “Q21674958” tucked inside the Louvre’s French landscapes; it’s the size of a playing card and reads like an inside joke between artist and city.