When Anthony van Dyck painted The Bay of Naples with the Lighthouse, and Vesuvius Beyond in 1830, it was already unusual: by then, the artist had been dead for nearly two centuries. The work is now widely considered a misattribution, a product of the 19th-century’s fascination with earlier masters and the bustling Grand Tour market. For decades, it was catalogued as an authentic van Dyck, despite the fact that the real Anthony van Dyck died in 1641 and never visited Naples.

This curious case highlights the era’s hunger for old master landscapes and the ease with which names could be attached—or misattached—to satisfy collectors. The painting itself captures a tranquil moment in the bustling port of Naples, with the city’s lighthouse standing sentinel and the unmistakable cone of Vesuvius rising in the background. The artist chooses a calm day: small boats dot the bay, and the sky is brushed with gentle clouds, suggesting peace rather than the drama of eruption. The lighthouse, a symbol of safety and commerce, draws the eye, while Vesuvius looms as a reminder of nature’s latent power.

Unlike the tempestuous scenes of J.M.W. Turner, who often painted Naples with swirling skies and volcanic fire, this work presents the city as a place of order and harmony, its dangers subdued by human presence. As for the painting’s journey, its misattribution to Anthony van Dyck likely granted it a place of honor in 19th-century collections, before later scholarship corrected the record. The true artist remains unknown, though some suggest a follower of the Neapolitan school, working in the Romantic period’s taste for Italian views.

Today, the painting serves as a testament to the complexities of attribution and the enduring appeal of Naples as a subject. It remains in a private collection, occasionally exhibited, a reminder of both the city’s beauty and the tangled paths artworks can travel through history.