Saturday, January 12, 2013

And just to beat this Kate Middleton thing to death Slash A window into the soul of the painter

This is why I love the Daily Beast.  They are running a slide show of fair to terrible portraits of politicians and royalty.  Somehow Charlie Rangel grabs a spot on the back end with a painting that I, personally, don't think is bad at all.

Click here.

I also thought the Tony Blair painting was good too.  You may remember my take on Gordon Brown.  It's better when you double click it ...

I always liked this painting.  Sometimes they can be a little disarming when you see them finished, but without the leavening affect of the annotation-filled background.  So don't judge too  harshly (and, just maybe, see this as a window into what poor Emsley could have been thinking when he painted all that pancake powder on poor Kate's face).

The title, which was the idea of the guy who commissioned it, also tickles me -- although it's obviously a joke and I don't get it.  The lips, which are exactly the same color as the title lettering, also please me.

Sadly, dear reader, Dear Prudence is a cautionary tale.  One of the few times I feel like my trust in my fellow man (at least in terms of my paintings and their related commerce) was breached.  The details are vague, but it was shipped to the UK with my understanding that annotations would be implemented there, by the guy who commissioned it.  Upon completion of the annotation phase, as I remember it (and I could be wrong), there was an additional financial component due me.

Neither, as far as I can tell, the annotations nor the second payment occurred.  Again, fully cognizant of my own failings, I like to give the benefit of the doubt as much as possible.  But I think I was ripped off.  The moral?  Craft a solid letter of agreement.  Trust but verify, to quote poor dead Ronnie.

My bad, I suppose.

If you ever find yourself in a lovely, paneled room in some lovely home in London, perhaps the smoking room in one of those social organizations that P. G. Wodehouse used to go on about, and you see Dear Prudence smugly hanging there, please take a marker (or hell, even a pen) and write the following:

The Painter is Disgruntled.

I love that word, by the way.  Disgruntled.  One of the great lost positives.

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