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Mummy can’t listen to you just now, my darlings
Mummy is being consumed by regrets
shouldn’t we all be smiling, Mother?
for the portrait?
thats a good idea
why dont you tell me what i have to fucking smile about
and i’ll try to work up the muscles to do it
just a little further back, sweethearts
i think we can still see your heads peeking over the chaise longue
i just don’t see why everyone has to help push you
surely it would be easier if just one of us pushed you at a time
no
i need everyone in this family
to pull their goddamn weight, old man
so you need to tell your wife to get up
and you two need to join the rest of the team
i want to do that thing where you swing up almost over the top but then you come back down at the last second
oh for christ’s sake, Daniel
put the bird down
we’ve managed to sit through fourteen family portraits without any bird corpses in them and I don’t think there’s any reason to start now
don’t say it
all I said w–
I SAID
DON’T SAY IT
your arm
what?
it’s squeezing me too tight
sorry?
you’re hurting me
oh am i?
awfully sorry
you’re still doing it
quiet, darling
don’t talk or you’ll ruin the painting
no by all means
keep eye-fucking the help
while Anna and I play whist by ourselves
what?
Jesus
keep it in your pantalets, Sylvia
I wasn’t–
just play your hand
portraitists aren’t the help
what?
i mean i wasn’t eye-fucking him to begin with
but even if i was
he isn’t the help
portraitists aren’t the help
well they’re not the Earl of Derbyshire either
think peerage, not steerage before you whip it out
oh jim
im so glad youre coming home at last
in this condition
itll be so nice to have someone else i have to take care of
you know
it’s so nice to have everyone together for this
all my disappointments gathered into one room
this is ridiculous
he’s nine years old
blister or no blister he can walk just as well as we can
you’re so hard on him
you’re always so hard on him
you carry him then
coddle him yourself for a change
what in christ’s heaven is that
is what?
that…whatever manner of cord you have wrapped around Jimeson’s neck
well, you can’t expect me to touch it with my bare hands, Markothy
I eat with those hands
oh i guess
okay
i guess you’re just the one who pours the tea now
i guess we must have all decided on that at some point
oh, id LIKE to give you this apple
but you wouldnt be able to appreciate it on as many levels as i do
Tags: artwork, having fun at western art history’s expense, mallory captions western art history
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just in time for the holidays.
Also reading these through in one sitting whilst trying not to laugh out loud at work always seems like a personal test of strength. That I never win by the way.
Oh, the apple. I was just writing something the other day about how the children eat all the fruit and there is never any for me. And I *love* fruit. I mean, they love it too, but mangoes? Nobody appreciates mangoes like I do. Or cherries. Cherries are my special, special thing and I really don’t think they quite understand how special cherries are. They’re just like, ‘oh cool, cherries,’ and I’m like, ‘THEY ARE WORTH THEIR WEIGHT IN GOLD DAMNIT.’
(Seriously, cherries are really expensive here).
Cosign, but with strawberries/blueberries/blackberries/bananas over here.
I feel this way about perfectly ripe peaches. I can’t tell you how many times my child has thrown one down her maw while I thought: “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Oh boy do I know this. I actually *hide* my honeycrisp apples because what is the point of giving the overpriced organic honeycrisp to the toddler? He will take one bite and then throw it on the floor, he can do that with a GALA.
when my sister was a wee toddling thing, i was talking with my mom while holding an apple I’D ALREADY STARTED EATING and the little minion came up and just took a big ol’ bite out of it, while it was dangling from my hand.
i stopped midword and she just sort of looked at me like “you were holding it at my height, weren’t you?”
Australian?
i’m away from home this year, but cherries and Bowen mangoes are my favourite thing about this time of year.
“Peerage, not steerage” would be a great way to advertise your interests on OK Cupid.
Between changing my opening line to that, and listing The Toast as “indicative of my personal beliefs”, I can’t wait to see what sort of guys I get attention from on Match.
i approve. my okc profile is only slightly for finding dates; its primary purpose is for me to amuse myself
(shameless self-promotion time: linky)
Markothy is a fantastic name
Is Markothy the sibling, the spouse or the child of Stimothy?
I think this one may be my favourite of all time?
you know
it’s so nice to have everyone together for this
all my disappointments gathered into one room
Right? Happy Thanksgiving, indeed.
Haha this is the PERFECT Thanksgiving toast.
I like you you really can’t be sure which adult is thinking that. I mean it could be the old woman, but it could equally be the husband or the wife, depending on how you look at it.
I’ve always loved John Singer Sargent but man, he didn’t seem to know any happy people.
See also: http://www.desmoinesartcenter.org/images/thumbnai… http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Singer_Sargent#…
Haha, I was just thinking, as I scrolled through the paintings, “Nice job, Sargent, making a killing off WASP-y people’s misery and dysfunction.” And, you know, that he was most excellent at painting gorgeous dresses.
Dude has a complicated relationship with menarch.
Truly, he is the Henry James of painters.
Oh wow the Sitwells, boy did they grow up to be interesting…
Do go on?
I do not know a ton about them, mostly references in other things (Bloomsbury diaries and such), but all three kids grew up to be literary/artistic and they formed their own little coterie. Now I want to go find some biographies to read! But this is a start: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sitwells
Thank you!
On the other hand, he did know Tilda Swinton’s great-grandmother, so there’s that…. http://www.artic.edu/aic/collections/citi/images/…
This is my favourite one of all.
That guy with the bird! Look how smug he is. “Verily, ladies, we shall FEAST tonight, now that I have successfully shot this bird. Aren’t you grateful I’m such a good provider?” Meanwhile the woman in blue is staring longingly at the rifle, trying to figure out if she could grab it and shoot him in the head without staining her beautiful dress with his unworthy blood.
I had a cat like that guy growing up. He was an indoor cat, but he’d weasel his way outdoors when we were letting the dog out and then come back a few hours later and very proudly present us with some dead animal and we’d be like ‘….awesome, Frog. Thanks for killing that chipmunk. Really helpful. Now there’s blood on the porch.’
Also, the dog is standing on her dress.
I would much prefer a dog standing ON my dress than a dude like that standing anywhere within a 10-mile radius of my dress.
“Oh good, we’ll get to pick shot out of dinner instead of having some nice potted pork. How wonderful.”
Christ, Daniel, give the bloody bird to the dog; he obviously needs it more than you. Better yet, give the dog to Jim’s partner, that dog of hers looks gorgeous! (She didn’t want the damn thing in the first place because she knew it would end up dumped in her lap but the dog won her over because, unlike Jim, it was always GRATEFUL and available).
“…all my disappointments gathered into one room.” DYING!
“…I eat with those hands.” MORE DYING!
And “eye-fucking” is just a perfect combination of sweet & salty verbiage and I want to use it immediately.
Am I the only one who heard these all read in Lucille Bluth’s voice?
“think peerage, not steerage before you whip it out”
That line legitimately just broke me. It’s perfect. My grandmother translated it as “it’s just as easy to love a rich man as a poor one, bubbaleh.” It’s good to know that the sentiment has remained the same through the ages.
My stepmom used to quote her mother as saying the same thing, except with “marry” rather than “love,” and minus “bubbaleh,” because they were WASPs. I enjoyed pointing out that statistically, it was NOT just as easy to marry a rich man as a poor man, but somehow that objection fell on deaf ears.
I honestly thought my mom made that saying up and that it was an especially cold thing for her to say. This is a mom saying, then. But a particular type of mom saying. I feel like, with my mom, there are very few examples (few, but not zero) of benign, kindly mom quotes and whole heaps of unknowingly cruel, calculating, passive-agressive quotes. And then fewer (but not zero), out right cruel quotes. This is my mom, anyway.
There is a LOT of skirt under the table in that whist picture. That’s all I’m saying.
And it’s all identical. I’m not entirely sure why they’re all wearing the same dress.
I have a spiel.
About ten years before that painting was made, someone was trying to make synthetic quinine and happened across a reliable, non-fading mauve dye. It was ridiculously popular, probably because before then pale people with cool undertones either wore a lot of white or looked terribly washed out: suddenly they could wear color and look FABULOUS.
The history of aniline dyes is fascinating!
They could look fabulous and be interestingly bereaved. Half mourning must have been a challenge before mauveine.
Well, they had to have a place to keep their vast stores of contempt, and their hair isn’t quite big enough for that.
I think the 4th painting would not constitute Western art. It is definitely Indian in origin. you know
it’s so nice to have everyone together for this
all my disappointments gathered into one room
This painting is the best visual aid for A Tangled Web by Montgomery, isn’t it?
The rest of your comment confuses me, but I’m inclined to agree with the first part. (Unless it’s a Western piece of art done in Indian style? What do I know about art history.)
omg, THINK PEERAGE NOT STEERAGE / all my disappointments gathered into one room
also the outfit/hat in that last one!
this…this might be the best one yet
I would wear the hell out of that outfit. To family gatherings, to work, to the grocery store.
*changes Gchat status bar thingy to “peerage, not steerage”*
I simply cannot find the will to remove “Sorry my arms are trees now”
Angry man in #6, WHERE IS YOUR HAND? Also, at first glance, it looks as if he’s strangling her with her scarf. It’s a very complicated picture.
LOOK AT HER CLAW!!!!!!!
I can do little else!
I was rushing down here to talk about her claw! Do you think she is Death, wearing the mask of a woman, come to escort him across the Styx?
WAIT LOOK – THERE IS ANOTHER HAND!!!! Inside her cloak, it looks like she is holding hands with another tiny hand. AAAAAHHHHHH WHAT IS THIS PAINTING
She has 3 and he has naught but 1!
She is keeping the baby under her clothes just in case!
She’s rather awkwardly holding her baby under the shawl. It’s cold and wet, they’re crammed on deck with a bunch of other people heading to Australia, and they don’t have a lot of money. No wonder they look cranky/resigned. They have a looooong trip ahead.
I think angry man in #6 has his hand in his coat, a la Napoleon.
Also, the tea ladies in #13. Isn’t that Caroline Bingley, Lady Catherine, and Mrs. Hurst? Having tea in their bestest frenemy style? (no matter who the actual subjects of the portrait are–)
Children do eat all the good fruit. Blue Gown Princess has the right idea.
I want a gown like that. Don’t they look fabulous?
Daniel may be obnoxious, waving that bird around and all, but he’s also demonstrating flawless selfie form. If that bird was a camera, he’d have a killer Instagram post.
DON’T SAY IT
“Lana. LANA. LANAAAA. I SAID, ‘Thank heaven for small miracles.'”
Mary: This guy, Joseph. I don’t even. What happened to our sweet little baby? Who is this turd?
Jesus: I hate you mom! You totally humiliated me in front of Kyle!
Joseph: Apologise to your mother, you little shit.
Joseph: do you have something to say to your mother DO YOU.
Jesus: Mom you know I know that Joseph isn’t my real Dad, right?
Mary: JESUS, how many times do I have to tell you, it doesn’t matter if you were in Jerusalem, talking with your real Dad, that’s no way for a Savior to act.
Jesus: *glares*
This is my new favorite painting, and I say that as a devout Christian.
Love beyond words.
The model for the “it’ll be so nice to have someone else i have to take care of” painting is the wife of Ruskin. She remained a virgin throughout her marriage because her husband was scared because her snatch looked different than those of sculptures. I feel like a lot of that comes through in the portrait.
Like six minutes after this painting was done she ran off with the artist. Probably because the whole sitting, she was like “Uuuuuggghhh, seriously, my HUSBAND.” and he was like “I need you to share those emotions for the next several hours.”
Do I detect a fellow fan of the Pre-Raphaelites? 🙂
I blundered over there because the architecture and the clothing is so amazing! But yessssss.
Oh man, poor Effie Gray. Ruskin was also a probable pedophile, btw. He later fell in love with a ten-year-old.
AND THEN Millais probably schtupped her little sister.
otoh: eight children with Millais, so PROBABLY the sex was acceptable.
This comment prompted me to fall into a hour long Wikipedia hole of Pre-Raphaelite/Arts and Crafts relationship drama. Spicy!
all your disappointments AND ONE ADORABLE PUPPY you mean
why dont you tell me what i have to fucking smile about
and i’ll try to work up the muscles to do it
This is going to be my new go-to response to catcallers.
Two for you, Sylvia. You go, Sylvia.
Unhappy families in non-western art history:
“Yes, sweetie- we’re totally listening…what’s the bunny doing now?” http://www.artfinding.com/images/svv/2/303/suzuki…
I think little Jimeson is wearing leading strings! A practical solution from the days before strollers, for when you don’t want your toddler tumbling into the giant kitchen fireplace / cow pond / trout stream / steep narrow staircase / what have you.
Yeah, I’m sure the leash is attached to a harness on his back, but it sure LOOKS like it’s wrapped around his (non-existent) neck.
think peerage, not steerage.
NEW MOTTO IN LIFE
I’m reasonably certain I went to high school with the girl who is squeezing her sister (?) too hard.
The swinging boy! I cannot help but admire his cat-like autocratic attitude.
It will serve Krishna well in the next few kalpas. He’s just getting started.
just a little further back, sweethearts
i think we can still see your heads peeking over the chaise longue
Lolololol, that one is especially perfect.
Brava!
She wasn’t sure whether it was touching her sister’s nipple or the cold knowon the vvase, but somethin was mmaking Valerie very excited.
You make the funniest art blogs I have ever read. Thank you so much. Don’t stop.
I'm on a course and I got the same problem, Better get outta here NOW. I bookmarked it already.