WOW.
DOUBLE WOW.
REALLY, PRISCILLA?! THAT’S SENSATIONAL.
Girl, here are some more revelations for your mind to explode about:
– The Titanic? It sank.
– Stoplights have three colors: red, yellow, and green
– Squares have four sides
– I’m hungry.
Great. Huffington Post, let me know when you need me to be hired. See, unlike Priscilla here, I know to capitalize “Vincent” and not “van.”
This is actually me at any social function; regally overdressed and ignoring every regular Joe suitor for the sake of eyeing someone taller, more handsome, and undoubtedly more successful. This weekend conference is gonna rule.
How in God’s name does Paul Gauguin still top the list of the most expensive paintings? I’m legitimately trying to understand this. Is there nothing we can do? Christie’s, I am begging you. I can’t take another moment of this smug bastard.
Continue reading posts of my general disdain here.
Edith Schiele and I are actual soul sisters. I mean, HELLO!, look at this collar! The stripes?! If this was a bit more Miss Frizzle solar system-y, it’d be all me. Don’t be fooled, though: I have much, much better eyebrows.
John James Whistler worked on “The White Girl” religiously, and was known for getting up early to finish the work. (First of all, I can barely make Soul Survivor and that crap’s at nearly ten in the morning.)
Whistler, most famous for his mother, was twenty-seven at the time of painting “The White Girl.” Once submitting the work, he went to the Royal Academy of Arts (London’s equivalent of the French Salon) to see where it had been installed…and he found it, laying gently in a stack of rejects.
Misery loves company, apparently, because girlfriend ended up being rejected by the French Salon itself! It ended up being exhibited with other castoffs, including Manet’s NSFW Déjeuner sur L’Herbe.
Last note: Whistler opted for “Symphony in White” as its new title to draw attention to the “true” subject — the paint. Personally, I would’ve tied in the bearskin rug or her frizzy hair to the whole symphony thing. Just a thought.
Jeanne Samary looks born ready for Friday, doesn’t she? Turns out she used to go out with Renoir, who painted her post-break up in the Luncheon of the Boating Party that you can see at the Phillips Collection in DC. She’s the one being a major flirt with the two men at the back. And Renoir’s new girlfriend is playing with the dog. Whaaaa?! Renoir, you so crazy!
Please, please, pleaaaaseeeeee, Mallory Ortberg?!! Just hire me already.
Read the entire series “Women Who Want to be Alone” here.
i have my needlework
and my secrets
ahh i would love to stay and go out with you
i would love that
so much
but i have to keep running away from you
sorry
😦
how did you say 😦 out loud like that
idk sorry cant stop running away tho!!
ahh sorryyyy
sorry my arms are trees now
what’s that, can’t hear you, arms are trees
Mary Cassatt often modeled for Edgar Degas. Though she kept this in her studio, she sold it later in her life without him knowing. I’m imagining Degas finding out and playing that “Last Christmas” on just straight repeat. Or like, ANY Taylor Swift song.
Huffington Post made me feel TERRIBLE this morning when it mentioned Degas celebrated his 180th birthday and I didn’t even know about it. Well, I’m going to go ahead and pretend that turning 180 years old requires two days and therefore, I am RIGHT ON TIME.
Degas is well-known for his ballerina paintings and sculptures, but he wasn’t always the popular Impressionist at school. Critics often called his work “appalling ugliness.”
His response?
“Art critic! Is that a profession? When I think we are stupid enough, we painters, to solicit those people’s compliments and to put ourselves into their hands! What shame! Should we even accept that they talk about our work?”
Preach, Degas. I feel that way when girls stare. It’s a printed maxi, ladies, and I am OWNING IT.
Henri Matisse’s “Odalisque” has quite a long lineage of ownership. The Nazis seized the work from art dealer Paul Rosenberg in 1941. The work traveled from Paris to New York, where it was purchased by the lumber millionaires Prentice and Virginia Bloedel. (Note: The two founded Bleodel Reserve, a pretty major mansion and wildlife habitat north of Seattle that sits on a measly 150 acres.) They donated the painting to the Seattle Art Museum in 1991.
Since “Odalisque” was a work confiscated by the Nazis, Rosenberg’s granddaughter Anne Sinclair (France’s own “Barbara Walters”) sued the Seattle Art Museum (the first lawsuit of its kind regarding looted art). The museum then sued the New York gallery (like, of course). The museum unanimously voted to give the work back in 1999. In 2007, Sinclair put the work up for auction. The price tag? 33 million.
As if this story couldn’t get more dramatic! Anne Sinclair’s ex is Dominique Strauss-Kahn, former IMF Managing Director who was acquitted of assault charges against a hotel maid. See? Told you.
arthipstory 
