The Wounded Soldier - Albert Edelfelt Art Print

Fine Art Prints

Forget cheap reproductions and printable posters. Only the best will do. Velvety matte fine art paper (warm white, archival-grade, 200gsm) with bold, vibrant, non-toxic pigment inks. 

High-definition print lab techniques give you sharper details, deeper saturation and true-to-life tones.

The matte surface keeps glare down and archival-grade materials mean the colors you fall for stay vivid for decades.

Framed Fine Art Prints

Your print arrives framed and ready to hang, so it goes straight from the box to your wall.

Chevron cut wooden frames make a timeless statement in three distinctive colors: black, white and natural.

Each frame is made of sustainably sourced FSC® certified European knotless pine, finished with ultra-clear perspex glaze that’s lighter than glass and shatter-resistant.

Float Framed Canvas Prints

Luscious artist-grade cotton canvas, hand-stretched and finely textured, gives every detail depth and precision. Its natural white surface catches light and color with striking clarity.

A precisely measured floating frame leaves a slim gap around the canvas, so it seems to hover with a sleek, gallery-worthy effect.

Your choice of a black, white or natural frame: all made from sustainably sourced FSC® certified European knotless pine.

Giclée Printing

Edelfelt’s The Wounded Soldier arrives mid-gesture. A young Ostrobothnian conscript hauls his shirt apart at the sternum, knuckles locked white against tobacco-brown paper, the linen falling open in a slash of soot black. Charcoal carries the whole argument. Smudged umber builds the ribcage. Gunmetal hatching stacks across the thighs.

The Wounded Soldier belongs to the illustration cycle Edelfelt made for Johan Ludvig Runeberg between 1897 and 1900, drawings that gave Finnish Romantic nationalism a face it could carry. Döbeln at Jutas turns on one September afternoon near Nykarleby, where von Döbeln broke Kazachkovsky and bought the retreating army a road. Edelfelt gives that history no horses and no smoke. He gives it a young man's jaw set hard under tousled hair.

The Paris-trained hand of Jean-Leon Gérôme’s student shows in the anatomy, sharpened by Nordic naturalism. Behind it sits the Grand Duchy’s own fear, the February Manifesto of 1899 pressing on Finnish autonomy as the sheet was drawn. Finland’s war with Russia ends here in a boy pulling his own body open, and this charcoal art print holds a country rendered in charcoal fury and defiance.