Then Renoir Punched Him in the Face
Monet later recalled that as Renoir painted, Manet glanced at his canvas from time to time, and at one point the older artist walked over to Monet and whispered: "He has no talent, that boy! Since you're his friend, tell him to give up painting!"
posted by Anonymous at 6:10 AM
1 Comments:
Have you seen those early Renoirs? - bleah.
It took a while before he could pull The Luncheon Party out of his butt, or make one of my favorite paintings, Portrait of Jeanne Samary, which is flowery and pink and nearly girly in the unicorn riding sense, and should be awful but is one of the best erasers of time I have ever seen.
I should add that the closest I ever came to strangling someone in a musuem was some yob (I happen to like that Britishism) standing in front of a vast late Monet, a trascendent painting, decades ahead of its time, with the actual philistine phrase phrases "I could do that," said with the dismissive derision that turns it from garden grade dumbness into hearty,
vibrant idiocy.
This may be eight years ago, and this is self-indulgence on my part, but anonymous yob sir, no you could not, not with 20 years of study could you even try to copy that work, and never in the depth of your yobbishness would you have ever created it, for all of your short time on earth will have passed before you understand the richness of your gift of vision.
It is because, Sir Yob, you cannot see. All you could see was big swathes of pink and purple and grey, like hearing hearing Segovia and noting that a guitar was involved, or remarking that Lance Armstrong also rides a bicycle, and concluding that because you can also make big swathes of pink and purple you know all that it was.
Numb nuts.
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