Wimsey Institute of Houndish Art

Wimsey's Umbrella

2011-11-19T19:44:00.004-05:00

The Umbrellas (Pierre-Auguste Renoir 1881-86, National Gallery, London). Now this is a very unique painting (notice the lengthy dates of the painting) because Renoir originally started it in 1881 when he was still painting in the Impressionist style. Subsequently he became disillusioned with the impressionism for which he is best known and spent the rest of his life trying to define his style. In 1886 he picked up the painting again and repainted the figure to our left in a crisper more classically oriented style—he had been looking at French neoclassical paintings at the time—and with a slightly duller palette. Very interesting. But not half so interesting as when a magnificent Hound has been inserted into this wet Parisian street scene! Notice how several of the figures are looking at him with great approbation. Perhaps they are admiring his ingenuity in keeping himself dry with his own umbrella. The Hound presents a charming and unifying focal point for this otherwise dualistic picture. Wimsey’s Umbrella.

La Toilette Avec Wimsey

2011-11-19T19:44:00.001-05:00

We travel back the early 20th century France and the work of Pierre Bonnard. La Toilette (Pierre Bonnard 1908, Musee d’Orsay, Paris). Here we have a spectacular nude (actually of the artist’s wife—Bonnard seemed to have lived the kind of happy, prosperous life not generally associated with the Parisian art scene). We become part of the action as we see her as if we have surprised her at her toilette. Bonnard uses the frames of the mirrors and doorway as well as the texture of the wall paper to give us a feeling of a small enclosed and intimate space. The pearly tones of the painting are echoed in the glowing skin of the figure. But the painting, for all its beauty has a major flaw. Bonnard omitted a crucial element in the painting which, by restoring makes the picture much more realistic. Who ever heard of being permitted to use the bathroom in the absence of a giant inquisitive Hound? See how the presence of the magnificent Hound adds a verisimilitude to the painting that was otherwise lacking. The Hound is there to observe and to supervise and to make sure the human does not somehow escape his ministrations. We are sure that the pearly skin of the model is owing to a fine coating of drool that the Hound has generously provided.La Toilette Avec Wimsey.

Wimsey With A Brioche the Way it is Supposed to Look.

2011-11-19T19:41:00.000-05:00

In honor of Maria’s baking activities; we have The Brioche (Edouard Manet, 1870, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Here we have the French impressionist painter Edouard Manet’s impression of what a brioche should look like. Maria’s brioche does not look like this. However beautiful the painting is, the sight of unmolested food on a beautiful and unchewed table is quite simply an artistic travesty. And also very unrealistic. But see how the problem can be solved with the insertion of a magnificent and hungry Hound who is preparing to do justice to the beautiful brioche! After that I suspect he will deal with the furniture issue. Wimsey With A Brioche the Way it is Supposed to Look.

Wimsey and the Old Guitarist

2011-11-19T19:35:00.000-05:00

Today we look at one of the most important paintings of Picasso’s blue period (why do painters never have a black and tan period?). The Old Guitarist (Pablo Picasso, 1903, The Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago). This painting was painted in Barcelona several months before Picasso began his halcyon life in Paris and it is in the blue style that he adopted in 1901 after the suicide of one of his good friends. The painting is also influenced by the work of the 16th century Spanish artist El Greco, particularly the angularity of the guitarist’s head. The painting has such a sad and desolate feel to it that I think the guitarist could benefit substantially from the addition of a commiserating Hound. See how much better the guitarist looks resting his head gently on top of a magnificently blue Hound! And see how the Hound is resting his head on the arm of the guitarist and staring intently at his fingers. He clearly wants the guitarist to stop playing his sad song and give him a scratch. The Hound may be blue, but he is still a Hound. Wimsey and the Old Guitarist.

Wimsi in the Millinery Shop

2011-11-19T18:38:00.000-05:00

The Millinery Shop (Edgar Degas, 1864, Art Institute of Chicago, Chicago, IL). Now this is a wonderfully intimate work by Degas who loved to explore private spaces (I too like to explore private spaces, just not the ones Degas had in mind). We view this milliner in the act of creating a new hat and so absorbed is she in her work that she is totally unaware of the viewer. But there is no customer in her shop trying on her creations—Degas apparently originally intended to depict one but then changed his mind. Perhaps if the customer in question were as distinguished a dowager as this magnificent lady Hound he would have changed his mind. See how lovely she looks in her pink hat and how she is nonetheless covetously eyeing the new creation. Perhaps she is thinking that it looks delicious. In any case she is putting on a fine display of the acquisitive nature of her kind.Wimsi in the Millinery Shop.

The Dance of Wimsey

2011-11-19T18:35:00.001-05:00

The Dance (Henri Matisse, 1909, Museum of Modern Art, New York). This painting was actually a preliminary study for a work commissioned by a Russian art dealer that currently hangs in the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg. And what an amazing picture it is, vividly defining rhythm and grace. Matisse’s use of bold colors and strong lines is reminiscent of the primitive art that frequently inspired the artist, who along with Picasso is considered one of the most important French modern artists. We notice that only the figure to the left appears earthbound—the other figures seem to float with rhythmic joy as they strive to complete the circle of dance. And speaking of the circle, in the original painting the dancers appear to be circling nothing, which I have always found puzzling. Surely Matisse’s dancers are meant to be circling a joyfully leaping lead dancer. Thus, we see how much more joyful and rhythmic the painting becomes with the insertion of a magnificent Hound! The Hound is clearly enjoying himself, as he assumes his rightful position as the center of attention. And see how the Hound adds drama to the painting as we wonder if the dancers will manage to join hands before the Hound prevents them from doing so. The Dance of Wimsey.

Madame Cezanne and Wimsey in a Red Armchair

2011-11-19T18:34:00.000-05:00

Both Picasso and Matisse described Cezanne as “the father of us all” for creating the foundation of modern art. However in this painting, Madame Cezanne in a Red Chair, (Paul Cezanne 1877, Boston Museum of Fine Art, Boston, MA) there is just the beginnings of his preoccupation with viewing the world through different planes. But we can see here the remarkable juxtaposition of patterns that must have delighted Matisse as well as wonderful, small brush strokes that build to a geometrical whole. We can sense the solidity and almost monumental quality of Madame Cezanne which is enhanced by her off center positioning on the chair; and we can almost feel her weight as she leans on its arm. Cezanne painted more than thirty pictures of her and she was required to sit for hours, quite still. We think that this must have been extremely boring for her, not to mention that in this painting her broad, empty lap and the large arm chair just beg to be filled with something both beautiful and entertaining. But what could that be? Yes—a magnificent Hound, draped comfortably and diminutively in her lap so as not to overpower her fine figure! I am sure her face looks much happier now. And the Hound has lifted his head in an interrogatory way as if to express Madame Cezanne’s sentiments of “aren’t you done yet?” Madame Cezanne and Wimsey in a Red Armchair.

Wimsey and Man in Oriental Dress (the Noble Hound)

2011-11-19T18:32:00.001-05:00

We have a glamorous oldie but goodie—Rembrandt and one of his most famous paintings Man In Oriental Costume (the Noble Slav): (Rembrandt van Rijn, 1632, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Here we have Rembrandt at his theatrical best: a topical subject —contacts with the mysterious East having been only recently established, an opulent golden light suffusing the rich costume of the dignified subject and the beautiful brush work of his most imposing hat. Yet somehow the painting is missing something. Something that can be remedied by the insertion of a magnificent and dignified golden hued Hound! The Hound’s demeanor lends even more gravitas to the man and his wrinkles and haberdashery echo those of the oriental potentate. We are sure he must be a wealthy and powerful man to be accompanied by such a glorious creature as this Hound. Wimsey and Man in Oriental Dress (the Noble Hound).

Apples and Oranges and Wimsey

2011-11-19T18:18:00.000-05:00

Here we have one of French post-impressionist Paul Cezanne’s most impressive still lifes: Apples and Oranges (Paul Cezanne, 1899, Musee d’Orsay, Paris). Here we can see not only Cezanne’s mastery of pattern, color, design and composition—note the wonderful crisp lines of the fruit—but also the reason why he is one of the fathers of modern art. Cezanne presaged the cubists in his interest in the use of different planes and perspectives applied to objects in the same painting—it is why somehow the way some of the fruit is sitting appears not quite right. But there is something else that is not quite right about this painting. The fruit is resting on a highly accessible surface and is unmolested. But see how much more real the painting looks with the insertion of a magnificent food filching Hound! And the Hound is assessing the quality of the fruit to determine whether it would be more enjoyable to eat or to play with. He looks about to have some serious fun which adds a dynamic element to the otherwise tranquil painting. Apples and Oranges and Wimsey.

Wimsey and the Card Players

2011-11-19T18:13:00.000-05:00

The Card Players (Paul Cezanne 1890, Musee du Louvre, Paris). Cezanne painted several versions of this picture so he must have liked the subject—perhaps it reminded him of the men of his native Aix-en- Provence. In any case, even though the painting was done in the 1890s these men look very familiar to me—they have that same intense look of concentration that my humans have when they look at the computer. So it is only fitting that the men in the painting suffer the same consequences as do more contemporary humans—the unwelcome insertion of a magnificently disruptive Hound. Do not let his casual, heavy lidded appearance fool you—he is about to snatch a hand, and his human’s attention, for himself. Wimsey and the Card Players.

Wimsey Reading L'Evenement

2011-11-19T18:11:00.000-05:00

Portrait of Louis-August Cézanne, Father of the Artist Reading L’Événement. (Paul Cézanne, 1866, National Gallery of Art, Washington D.C.). Now Paul Cézanne did not get along very well with his father. His father was a successful banker who expected his son to also be a successful banker, (Cézanne père would have approved of cloning) and as one can imagine he was not exceptionally thrilled to have a son who chose to be an artist instead. Ironically, no one knows or cares anything about the elder Cézanne but his son’s work is considered to have laid the foundation for much modern art. So much for listening to one’s parents. But like all good sons, Paul Cézanne was not above getting a little revenge on his father. In this painting the elder Cézanne looks like he is going to fall of his throne-like chair and one of Cézanne’s paintings (of which his father doubtless would not have approved) hangs on the wall behind him. And the elder Cezanne is not reading one of his boring business journals but a paper in which Cézanne’s BFF Emile Zola gave good reviews to the impressionist paintings of Cézanne’s friends. But still I think Cézanne could have done more to make his father uncomfortable. See how much more annoying it would be if there were a magnificent newspaper loving Hound also trying to read (and perhaps ultimately shred) the newspaper! Undoubtedly the Hound has begun drooling on the paper and he is a moment away from climbing onto M. Cézanne’s lap, thus banishing all hope of further perusal of the paper. I do this to Elizabeth all the time so the concept fits perfectly with the realistic style of this Cézanne’s painting. And what better revenge could there be on an uptight father than the unleashing an outsized smelly Hound into his quiet and orderly world? Portrait of Wimsey Reading L’Événement.

Two Gourmets

2011-11-19T18:10:00.000-05:00

We have an early Picasso here. Le Gourmet (Pablo Picasso, 1901, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C.) This painting was painted at the beginning of Picasso’s blue period and we can see that the palette is suffused with blue tones. We also note the strong, simple lines and the weightiness of form that characterize much of Picasso’s figurative work. However, Picasso left much of the foreground of the painting empty which is rather puzzling. Also puzzling is the fact that the small child, who has clearly been left unattended and in possession of food, is standing about freely eating the food. But see how much more sense the painting makes with the insertion of a magnificent gourmandizing Hound! See how the large, volumetric Hound complements the sturdy figure of the small child and how the presence of the Hound adds to the dynamic tension of the picture. We appreciate how, at any moment, the Hound is poised to snatch the next spoonful of food the second the child attempts to put it to her lips. We notice how unperturbed the child is at the possibility. Perhaps it has happened before. Two Gourmets.

Wimsey Smoker

2011-11-19T18:08:00.001-05:00

The Smoker (Paul Cezanne, 1891, The Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg). Now when we look at this painting we can immediately see Cezanne’s focus on form and geometry as he depicts a smoker lost in his own thoughts. Cezanne was particularly interested in including objects seen from different points of view in a single painting. It is an intellectual idea whose natural end result lead to cubism where a picture is broken up into multiple planes and views, however puzzling they are to the casual observer. Anyway, in Cezanne’s original painting there is an empty spot on the couch next to the smoker making it look like something is missing. Something is missing—a magnificent Hound! See how the companionable Hound is joining his human in the enjoyment of a fine pipe. What a wonderful Hound he is! And see how his human appears to be gazing at his Hound with relaxed admiration just as Hounds should always be gazed at. Wimsey Smoker.

Paris Street, Rainy Day Wimsey

2011-11-19T18:02:00.000-05:00

we examine probably the most famous painting of the lesser known French artist, Gustave Caillebotte: Paris Street; Rainy Day (Gustave Caillebotte, 1877, Chicago Art Institute, Chicago). Although the chronology of Caillebotte’s work places him in the Impressionist period, Caillebotte is considered a Realist painter. He was very interested in photography and this interest is reflected in many of his works. But what is an urban walk in the spring rain without the presence of a magnificent Hound redolent of fine fragrance? We can see that the couple in the foreground is trying to minimize the incipient stinkiness by trying to keep the Hound dry under their umbrella. They probably won’t succeed as it looks very much like the Hound’s attention has been grabbed by something to his right (a mound of delectably steaming horse manure perhaps?) and he is about to go investigate further.
Paris Street; Rainy Day Wimsey.

Wimsey's Siesta

2011-11-19T17:58:00.000-05:00

The subject of women was never far from our artist’s heart, mind, paint brush and other bits. He is none other than Paul Gauguin the quintessential model for European men going native. Gauguin left a prosperous if boring life as a stockbroker, abandoning a wife and five children in the process, to pursue his art in the South Pacific (no one ever said artistic geniuses were nice guys). Gauguin was interested in form and line and his bold paintings became the foundation for primitivism. He was also notoriously interested in the ladies. Lots of ladies, preferably very young ones which explains why he died of syphilis at the age of fifty four. The Siesta (Paul Gauguin 1892, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). In this painting Gauguin depicts the indolent grace of several Polynesian women having a bit of a rest from the no doubt brutal heat of the afternoon sun. But Gauguin changed one element of the painting that I think was a mistake—originally it contained a dog instead of the basket. But see how much more relaxing and beautiful the indolent grace of the women is with the (re) insertion of a magnificent Hound! The Hound has made himself wonderfully comfortable, his massive head resting on the shoulder of a recumbent woman and his rump resting against the back of the central figure. See what a relaxing element he adds to the painting as he enjoys a deep and satisfying nap. Wimsey’s Siesta.

A Promenade with Wimsey

2011-11-19T17:57:00.002-05:00

We have another lush Renoir to look at: The Promenade (Pierre-August Renoir, 1870, The Getty Museum, Los Angeles, California) painted at the height of Renoir’s powers. Here we see a woman who is being led along a garden path (probably in more ways than one) by a young suitor. But the lady is looking backwards, apparently at nothing, which I think is very puzzling. But see how much more sense the painting makes if the lady is also escorting a magnificent Hound! She is looking back at her Hound, perhaps to entreat him to move forwards, whereas he appears to want to go in another direction entirely. I think perhaps she should listen to her Hound. A Promenade with Wimsey.

Wimsey's Love Song

2011-11-19T17:57:00.001-05:00

Jean-Antoine Watteau's, The Love Song (Jean-Antoine Watteau, 1717, National Gallery, London). Watteau had a short life and was active during the later years of the reign of Louis XIV. He specialized in painting charming, idyllic scenes set in a romantic country background. In The Love Song we see the interaction between two flirtatious individuals about to engage in a duet. However, the foreground of the painting seems rather bare and it is unlikely that the gentleman with the guitar will be able to really impress his love with so slight an instrument. But see how the situation is immediately improved with the addition of a more imposing pair of lovers, two magnificent Hounds! We can almost hear the ear splitting ardor of the male Hound as he vigorously serenades his wonderfully luminescent love. See how attentive she is to the sound of his mournful and mellifluous baying and how the presence of this pair substantially increases the romantic appeal of the painting. What indeed could be more romantic than the sentimental sight and sound of a Hound in love? Wimsey’s Love Song.

Romeo and Juliet and Wimsey and Phoebe

2011-11-19T17:54:00.000-05:00

The pre-Raphaelites admired the simplicity of the art of the early 15th century before the time of the renaissance painter Raphael, who they considered elaborate and theatrical. Romeo and Juliet (Ford Madox Brown, 1870, Delaware Art Museum, Wilmington Delaware). Well, I mean Romeo and Juliet are so old hat and their romance didn’t turn out very well, so I think we can substantially enhance the appeal of this painting by adding a more robust set of lovers—Hounds being rather unlikely to drink poison or stab themselves with daggers, etc. (taking a bath is about as self-sacrificing as we get). See how the beautiful Phoebe gazes out at us with such Houndly sagacity as the ardent Wimsey intently drinks in her every expression. We can see that at any moment he will caress her ponderous flew with his lengthy, moist tongue. Was there ever such devotion! Romeo and Juliet and Wimsey and Phoebe.

Wimsey with Musicians

2011-11-19T17:53:00.000-05:00

The Musicians: (Caravaggio, 1595, Metropolitan Museum, New York). As we have discussed before, Caravaggio was a master of baroque painting with kind of a wild personal life and in this painting, painted for his patron Cardinal del Monte, we see not only his self-portrait (the chap in the background looking at us) but also his boyfriend (the fellow playing the lute). This is not one of Caravaggio’s best efforts, principally as all the figures seem to have been painted separately and do not really relate to each other. But see how we can easily correct this problem with the insertion of a loud, magnificently musical Hound! See how the Hound, clearly in fine voice ties the central figures together as the lute player accompanies him and the background figure looks on in amazement. We can almost hear the acoustically robust bass baritone of the Hound as he indulges himself joyously in song! And see how his position in the painting draws us into the frame and makes us feel like we are withholding some boiled liver. Wimsey With Musicians

Wimsey and His Matador

2011-11-19T17:51:00.001-05:00

We again look at a painting by Eduouard Manet, this time one with an appropriately Spanish theme: The Matador, (Edouard Manet, 1866, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Here we can see Manet, who was something of a realist, being romantically inspired by the Spanish art of the 17th century after he visited Spain in 1865 and watched a bull fight. He subsequently painted this ¾ view of a famous matador, turning with proud posture as if to acknowledge the cheers of the crowd. But man does not live by bull alone and see how much more proud and dignified the Matador looks when he is standing next to his proud and dignified Hound! Perhaps the Hound is also owed tribute by the crowd for riling up the bull before the fight. And see how graciously the Hound accepts the well deserved tribute of the crowd. See how the Matador has wisely not told his Hound “Don’t even think about playing with my cape” so the Hound has remained tranquil and see how much better looking the Hound is than the Matador. Wimsey and His Matador.

Prince and Princess Wimsey de Broglie

2009-03-06T21:30:00.001-05:00

We are looking at one of the best portraits by the great French neoclassical painter, Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres. Although Ingres painted many subjects he is best known for his portraits, particularly this one: Princesse de Broglie (Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres, 1853, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Ironically, although Ingres considered himself a guardian of the classical style and in direct opposition to the romantics such as Delacroix, his distortions of form and space presage modern art. Look at the beautiful Princesse and notice that her neck is anatomically too long. The Princesse she was known for her reserve, beauty and dignity and this distortion helps enhance these qualities. But as beautiful as the portrait is, see how much more beautiful it is with the addition of a magnificent (and very dignified) Hound! Notice how the solemn demeanor of the Hound echoes that of the Princesse and how the noble Hound has carefully chosen a lovely headdress to complement the glowing silk and lace gown of the Princesse. Prince and Princesse Wimsey de Broglie

Wimsey and a Young Lady in 1866

2009-03-06T21:27:00.000-05:00

Young Lady in 1866 (Edouard Manet, 1866 Metropolitan Museum, New York). Now many people think that Manet painted this picture because his buddy Courbet had a success in the Salon of 1866 with Woman with a Parrot. Of course in Courbet’s painting the woman with the parrot was naked and lying suggestively on her back-- which may have had something to do with its success. Anyway, hopping on the parrot train, Manet painted his (fully) clothed friend and model Victorine Meurent with her parrot confidant. Victorine, by the way was no stranger to the unclothed and the erotic—although she looks starchy here she was the model for Manet’s quintessential odalisque, Olympia. But anyway, this parrot appears to be looking at something quite fixedly which is very puzzling. But when we insert a large, luminescent Hound, the object of his gaze becomes clear! Who would not gaze with such intensity at so large and magnificent a Hound, especially if the parrot suspects that at any moment the Hound might turn his attention from thinking about eating what is in the woman’s hand to thinking about eating him! Well, the parrot clearly lacks the allure of the duck, but it gives us Wimsey and a Young Lady in 1866.

Wimsey Seated on A Woman Seated on a Bench

2009-01-06T13:51:00.002-05:00

Woman Seated on a Bench (Claude Monet, 1874, Tate Museum, London). While it is always refreshing to see a Monet painting that does not involve water lilies, I must confess that this painting has always struck me as odd. The woman in question looks so immobile and static. Also there is so much unoccupied room on the bench considering it is such a nice day (notice how strongly the loose, imprecise brush strokes convey the lushness of a summer’s day and the dappling of sunlight on the bench). But with the insertion of a magnificent (if somewhat rude) Hound, all is explained! The woman is not immobile by choice. She cannot move with the heavy burden of a Hound on her legs. We sense that at any moment the Hound will sprawl across her lap and settle in for a satisfying chew on her parasol, an element which adds drama to this otherwise rather placid scene. Wimsey Seated on A Woman Seated on a Bench.

Ducks in the Sunshine about to be Eaten by Wimsey

2009-01-06T13:50:00.000-05:00

Let us view the work of a rather obscure 18th century French painter (the 18th century being noted for its excellence in the production of obscure painters) Jean-Baptiste Oudry. Now French 18th century art is the century that brought us the gooey delights of the rococo and other types of sentimental art not usually admired here at the Wimsey Institute. However, Jean-Baptiste Oudry was the official court painter of the hunt! He spent his career raking in the francs by painting pictures of the stuff Louis XV killed—hardly the masterworks to excite the curatorial soul. But he did paint lots of (temporarily) live animals and among his oeuvres was this piece which seemed very appropriate to display: Ducks Resting in the Sunshine (Jean-Baptiste Oudry, 1753, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). But it really makes no sense that these ducks were just hanging out (especially in France, home of duck a l’orange and hard hunting French monarchs) and the scene has a rather static quality to it. But see how the addition of a magnificent rampaging Hound who is about to catch his dinner adds to the drama and the dynamic quality of the painting! Ducks in the Sunshine About to Be Eaten By Wimsey. (I wonder if my humans would consider hiring a court painter to paint my dishes of kibble?)

Girl with a Wimsey

2009-01-06T13:48:00.000-05:00

Girl With An Ermine (Leonardo da Vinci, 1489, Czartoryski Museum, Krakow, Poland). Now this a very beautiful painting of an extraordinary young woman (she was 17 when this was painted), Cecilia Gallerani, the mistress of the Duke of Milan. She was highly educated, spoke Latin, wrote poetry played music and hosted one of the first salons in Europe. And Leonardo infuses the painting with a dynamic quality as evidenced by the fact that he seems to catch the sitter just in the act of turning--perhaps to listen to what someone is saying. Although the title of the painting would lead one to believe that the woman is holding an ermine, it is really a white ferret, which to me somehow lacks the same cachet. But in any case, as a beautiful and refined woman she should really be holding a beautiful and refined Hound! See how much better she looks cuddling this diminutive, yet somehow haughty Hound. And the presence of the Hound also makes the painting more clear as she is probably turning to acknowledge someone who is greatly admiring him. Girl With A Wimsey.

Wimsey with a Pearl Earring

2009-01-06T13:35:00.001-05:00

Girl With A Pearl Earring (Johannes Vermeer, circa 1665, Maueritshuis, The Hague). Now this is a very mysterious painting, even for Vermeer who only painted forty paintings in his life. No one knows who the girl is (a long lost ancestor of Scarlett Johansson perhaps) or whether she is even real. There has been some speculation that she is just an idealized figure. And absent a background context, her exotic dress tells us nothing about where she is in time or location or who she is supposed to be or whom she is meant to represent. However, the beauty of her face, bathed in the off canvas light source so typical of Vermeer and the provocative nature of her direct gaze have never been in dispute. But see how much more beautiful and less mysterious the painting becomes with the addition of a magnificent Hound! Now her gaze says to us “Come look at my extraordinary Hound whose beauty is only matched by my own. Is there anything so wonderful to look at?” And in the way of baroque painting the Hound is adorned with a lustrous pearl (Hounds are after all pearls without price). Wimsey With a Pearl Earring.

Charles I and Wimsey at the Hunt

2009-01-06T13:33:00.000-05:00

Charles I At the Hunt (Anthony Van Dyck, 1635 Musee du Louvre, Paris). Anthony Van Dyck the great Flemish painter became court painter to Charles I and painted forty portraits of him. Now although this is a very imposing painting it is not an official royal portrait. In it Van Dyck depicts the easy elegance of a gracious gentleman at the hunt. The genius of Van Dyck as a portraitist is that in spite of the casual pose of the sovereign the painter manages to portray him as commanding and regal nonetheless. From his shimmering doublet to his elegant boots and haughty expression, he is clearly the man in charge. But however beautiful, this painting has always seemed to me to be missing something. Shouldn’t the haughty and commanding Charles I be accompanied on the hunt by an equally haughty and commanding Hound? See how much the addition of a magnificent Hound adds to the meaning and beauty of the painting! Both gaze majestically out at their realm secure in the knowledge that their every wish is a their subject’s command—such a sense of ease, elegance and entitlement in both man and Hound. Charles I and Wimsey at the Hunt.

Harlequin

2009-01-06T13:27:00.003-05:00

Let us look at a Picasso: Harlequin, (Pablo Picasso, 1901, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). This painting marks the beginning of Picasso’s blue period in which he used a blue palette to convey the sadness he felt upon learning of the suicide of a close friend. But this is a puzzling picture—the harlequin seems to be contemplating something. But what? See how much more sense it makes if the harlequin is contemplating the beauty of his magnificent blue Hound! Perhaps he is admiring the Hound’s glowing coat or his splendid intelligence. Or thinking about new things he can do to please his Hound.

Wimsey with a Lute Player

2008-10-14T15:27:00.000-04:00

As you know, I have a distinctly artistic and musical bent. This visit to the Wimsey Institute of Houndish Art combines both of these great loves. The Lute Player (Caravaggio, 1596, The Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg). Now Caravaggio was kind of a crazy guy who got himself kicked out of a number of Italian cities for brawling (not easy to do in the rough and tumble times of the 17th century) but maybe it was this craziness that caused him to paint in a way that no one else had ever done before. Rather than using the idealized forms of the Renaissance or of some of the Mannerist painters who preceded him, Caravaggio employed naturalistic figures that looked like the real people they actually were (he painted from models). Caravaggio also pioneered the dramatic use of light that has come to be known as a hallmark of Baroque painting. He painted the lute painter in a rare period of tranquility while enjoying the patronage of an Italian cardinal and apparently liked the concept (or the model) so much that he painted three versions of it. Now this is a very beautiful picture and we notice immediately the shaft of light illuminating the face of the lute player. However, he seems to be alone, which is a shame and his fine wooden instrument appears to be an ideal shape for a good chew by a music loving Hound. Perhaps the Hound even accompanies the young lute player, who likely was a castrato with a soprano voice, with his fine bass baritone in exquisite harmony. We can almost hear the melodious voice of this magnificent Hound! Wimsey With a Lute Player.

Venus and Mars United by Wimsey

2008-09-01T19:17:00.000-04:00

Venus and Mars United by Love (Paolo Veronese, circa 1576, Metropolitan Museum, New York). Here we have one of the most famous paintings by the Mannerist painter Paolo Veronese. Mannerism is a style of painting that developed as a bridge between the high Renaissance in the 1500s and the baroque in the 1600s. Unlike renaissance painters, mannerists were given to less naturalistic and more dramatic forms and a theatrical use of color. In this painting Veronese seems to be highlighting the civilizing influence that love (in the form of Venus the goddess of love) can have on war (in the form of Mars the god of war). The little fellow with wings is Cupid and he is attempting to unite these powerfully opposing forces with a slender ribbon. Frankly, I don’t think he has much chance of success. It would be far better to choose a more potent unifying force, such as a magnificent Hound! Look at how irresistible and adorable the Hound is! Surely everyone—even those devoted to the disparate arts of love and war –can agree on his splendor. For Mars there is his imposing physique and indomitable will; for Venus there are his velvety wrinkles and affectionate nature. Could there be a more perfect embodiment of the unity of these opposites? I don’t think so. Venus and Mars United by Wimsey.

Wimsey X

2008-09-01T19:15:00.000-04:00

Let's look at one of the most famous works by society portrait painter John Singer Sargent. Madame X (John Singer Sargent, 1884, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Now John Singer Sargent was one of those turn of the last century chaps so beloved of novelists and the film makers Merchant and Ivory —an American born in Florence who studied art in Italy and Germany before finally washing up in Paris where he was a successful contributor to the famous Paris Salon. All was going swimmingly until he painted this portrait of a famous American beauty married to wealthy French banker (holy Edith Wharton!), Virginie Gautreau. Now although the lady was a society beauty known for dressing ahead of her time, this painting so shocked and scandalized Paris that Sargent was forced to flee to England (fortunately he took the picture with him before the subject’s family could destroy it).

The bold expanse of creamy skin, her exuberant curves and a pose that was deemed “suggestive” caused an uproar not seen since Manet’s “Dejeuner Sur L’herbe” (where at least there were some actually naked women involved). To further up the salaciousness quotient, the original painting featured her right strap sliding off her shoulder. Well today of course we are shocked at the shock that such a painting could have caused; especially as upper class turn of the century Paris was hardly a church social. Anyway, as beautiful and sensual as the painting is, it looks quite empty and the lady looks lonely. But see what happens when the elegant profile of the lady is matched by the elegant profile of a magnificent Hound! The glow of his rich, burnished coat highlighting the sensuous black draping of her gown and his regal demeanor echoing her own. Perhaps if Sargent had included this lustrous Hound people would have been so captivated by the innocence of his beauty that he would not have been forced to flee to England. Wimsey X.

Wimsey in the Garden at Sainte Adresse

2008-09-01T19:13:00.000-04:00

Garden at Sainte Adresse (Claude Monet 1867, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Sainte Adresse is a resort on the Normandy coast and Monet painted some of his relatives peacefully enjoying the scenery (the peace being somewhat of an illusion as Monet was fighting at the time with his father owing to his latest unsuitable romantic conquest—“la plus ca change…” and all that). The painting’s composition consists of bands of color that were very reminiscent of the Japanese art that was newly popular at the time. But the woman in white is sitting next to a puzzlingly empty chair which makes me think that she is expecting someone. And who better to expect than a giant handsome Hound! Now instead of gazing pointlessly out to sea or talking to her no doubt tedious companion, she can commune with one of Nature’s own masterpieces, a magnificent Hound. But of course the Hound is not paying much attention to her—Hounds seldom pay attention to humans—but is gazing past her, perhaps to a much more important human such as someone selling ice cream or some other desirable comestible. Wimsey in the Garden at Sainte Adresse.

Wimsey in a Forest Stream

2008-09-01T19:11:00.001-04:00

Let us visit the cool and shady world of an 18th century Dutch forest. The Forest Stream, (Jacob van Ruisdael 1760, Metropolitan Museum, New York). Van Ruisdael was one of the great masters of Dutch landscape painting and here we can see how brilliantly he evokes the leafy coolness to be found in a forest stream. But the stream seems so empty with just that one ram. Such a place of sylvan beauty would surely attract many additional and highly attractive animals. See how much more complete the painting looks with the insertion of a hot Hound who is cooling his extra large feet. And notice how the presence of this wonderful creature enhances the pastoral beauty of the scene. We can almost feel the cool water the splendid Hound will ultimately fling on us when he shakes! Wimsey in a Forest Stream.

Aristotle with a Bust of Wimsey

2008-09-01T19:09:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I am in a very philosophical mood and inclined to look to the ancients as a source of wisdom. Rembrandt did this too, especially when a rich Sicilian patron offered him beaucoup de ducats to paint a philosopher. He chose Aristotle. Aristotle With A Bust of Homer (Rembrandt, 1653, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Rembrandt chose to contrast two ways of being a genius—Aristotle in the sphere of philosophy and science and Homer in the sphere of literature. Aristotle is painted in the rich attire so well suited to Rembrandt’s gold tones and is wearing the expensive bit of bling given to him to his most famous pupil, Alexander the Great. Sadly, Aristotle was not able to influence Alexander enough to prevent him from roaming around conquering the world, and so we see Aristotle contemplating whether Homer is ultimately the more successful genius. However, I think that Aristotle would do better to contemplate a genius of a canine kind and one who never fails to influence (some say control) the actions of those around him—a magnificent Hound! See how noble and wise the sagacious Hound looks as Aristotle touches him on his flat and pointy head. Aristotle now recognizes that he is in the presence of true genius and gazes at the Hound with unbounded admiration, perhaps ruing just a little that he had not the Hound’s skill when it came to reining in young Greek dictators. Aristotle with a Bust of Wimsey.

Peter Paul Rubens, his family with their Beautiful Hound.

2008-09-01T19:08:00.000-04:00

We visit another Flemish master of Baroque art, Peter Paul Rubens: Rubens, His Wife Helena Fourment and Their Son Peter Paul, (Peter Paul Rubens, late 1630s, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Now it has always seemed to me that this famous family portrait is missing something. But this is easily remedied by the insertion of the family Hound. Notice that the Hound, who is gazing up at the wife mirrors the husband who is gazing down, thus adding an important element of symmetry to the painting. Both man and Hound clearly adore the woman in the picture, (although it rather looks like the Hound is expecting a delicious piece of liver to fall from her delicate hand) but the Hound’s interest is entirely legal. Not to gossip and tell art tales, but Rubens, gifted painter though he was, is surely up for the dirty old man of art award (although Picasso might give him a run for his money) as in 1630 the 53 year old Rubens married the 16 year old Helena, a girl for whom he had a predilection of painting in the nude. So yesterday’s great artist would be today’s felon, but it seemed to have worked for them—she produced 5 children in ten years until the old boy popped off—but before he did that he unquestionably produced some great art, made especially great with the insertion of a gently imploring Hound. Peter Paul Rubens, his family with their Beautiful Hound.

Wimsey with a Ruff

2008-09-01T19:04:00.000-04:00

Portrait of a Woman, (probably of the Van Beresteyn family), (Rembrandt, 1632, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Rembrandt painted this striking portrait when he was a young man and just beginning to perfect the golden tones with which he imbued his art. (The Van Beresteyns, by the way, were one of the ruling families of the city of Haarlem ((the city after which New York’s Harlem was named!)) with an interest in art). Nevertheless we can see the master’s hand at work in the golden threads of the lady’s garment and especially in the texture of her extravagant ruff.. Now when it comes to extravagant ruffs I didn’t think there was any way to top mine (my humans frequently comment on the distinguished Elizabethan air my ruff imparts) but I think that I look devilishly handsome in this artificial version which really enlivens the plainness of the portrait. The lady is indeed very somber, but with the insertion of a fine baroque Hound we at least know that she is not, nor likely to be, lonely. See how the burnished golden undertones tones of this magnificent Hound’s coat contrasts with and enhances Rembrandt’s fine treatment of the black gown! Wimsey With a Ruff.

Washington and Wimsie crossing the Delaware

2008-09-01T19:02:00.000-04:00

Washington Crossing the Delaware (Emmanuel Leutze, 1851, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Now in December of 1776 General Washington had a lot of problems—the Brits had kicked him out of Long Island (and captured valuable Hamptons real estate), then they kicked him out of New York and forced him to cross the Hudson and flee to New Jersey (a New Yorker’s worst nightmare!) and then finally he even got kicked out of New Jersey. Rapidly running out desirable of tri-state options, Washington camped out on the Pennsylvania (“the boonies”) side of the Delaware River when his Hound announced that there was a strong odor of Hessians coming from the New Jersey side (‘Are you sure you smell bratwurst? Maybe it’s fish and chips—there are supposed to be a lot of Brits lurking on the Jersey shore”). But at the urging of his fearless Hound, Benjamin Franklin Wimsie, who was eager to capture the cache of delectable sausages, Washington led his brave men to a successful surprise raid on the Hessian camp. Here we see the scene commemorating Washington and his heroic Hound: Washington and Wimsie crossing the Delaware.

Portrait of Wimsey and the Guy Who Invented the Pointy Beard

2008-09-01T19:01:00.000-04:00

Now as you might imagine I am sometimes accused of lacking a certain gravitas, so my eye was immediately caught by this self-portrait of a young Anthony van Dyck: Self-Portrait (Anthony van Dyck, 1620, Metropolitan Museum of Art). Now although this painter is most famous for his court paintings of James I and his son Charles I, he also managed to achieve immortality by lending his name to a type of pointy beard. (which makes me wonder if people who sport sleek shiny beards should be said to be wearing a Wimsey). But in this painting he is kind of young and foolish but trying to look very solemn and dignified in the manner only a young man just out of his teens can carry off. But I think the world would have taken him much more seriously if he had included a solemn and dignified (looking) Hound. See how worldly and sagacious the magnificent Hound looks! Portrait of Wimsey and the Guy Who Invented the Pointy Beard.

Horse Frightened by Wimsey

2008-09-01T18:58:00.001-04:00

Let us examine the work of the 18th century British artist George Stubbs who is perhaps the most famous painter of horses ever to exist. He largely painted for an aristocratic audience and was successful enough to enjoy the patronage of the Prince of Wales. In addition to pastoral scenes and horse portraits, Stubbs painted a series of unfortunate encounters between lions and horses. Horse Frightened by a Lion (George Stubbs, 1763, Tate Gallery, London). Now however exciting these types of paintings were, the fact remains that there really weren’t all that many lions roaming around rural 18th century England. So see how much more sense the painting makes if the horse is in fact frightened by a Fearsome Hound. See how brave and macho and non-metrosexual the Hound looks even if he does have a sissy name like Wimsey as he lunges toward the startled horse. However, unlike the lion, the Hound has no interest in eating the actual horse, but merely in consuming some of the natural consequences of frightened equine digestion. Horse Frightened by Wimsey.

The Duke of Urbino and His Hound Wimseo d’Urbino

2008-09-01T18:54:00.001-04:00

We visit with an early Renaissance master, Piero della Francesca whom I like very much because he is usually referred to as just “Piero” (just like I am always referred to as just “Wimsey” even though I am really Champion Ewine Ramsey Creek’s Wimsey). Now not much is known about Piero except that he painted some of the great religious art of the 15th century and is famous for his use of geometry in his compositions and for the use of a pale luminous light in his painting. One of his most famous non-religious paintings is a diptych he painted for the masterful Duke of Urbino: Diptych Portrait of Frederico da Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino and his Wife Batista Sforza (Piero della Francesca, approx. 1465-1472, Uffizi Gallery, Florence). Now the Duke was a pretty important and powerful guy and it seems like a better choice for the second portrait of the diptych would be an equally powerful and important Hound. History is vague on the subject, but it seems the Duke held his Hound and confidante Wimseo d’Urbino in great esteem and credits him for much of the success of his ducal reign. We notice immediately the symmetrical nature of their level gazes, and the naturalistic prominence of their duel proboscises. Clearly they were made for each other.

Wimsey Cooking Eggs

2008-08-02T09:13:00.001-04:00

Whe travel to sunny Spain to look at a masterpiece of baroque art: Old Woman Cooking Eggs (Diego Velazquez, 1618, National Galleries of Scotland). Velazquez painted this when he was only nineteen years old and the work reflects the general baroque preoccupation with the dramatic role of light. Velazquez, however, also enjoyed imbuing everyday objects with contrasting textures as we can see in the reflective oily nature of the eggs and the polish of the metal bowls and utensils. Unfortunately Velázquez was not able to indulge his passion very often as he soon after became court painter to Phillip IV of Spain and spent his days painting the uncomely king and his equally unattractive looking family (if anyone offers to set you up on a blind date with a Hapsburg I would give it a miss) in a series of inexhaustible poses and attitudes. But with respect to Old Woman Cooking Eggs (my humans cook me eggs frequently and I think they rather resemble this woman after a long day out with me) Velazquez could have added yet more textural variety by the insertion of a large, hungry Hound supervising the cooking. See how his large moist tongue and luxurious velvety wrinkles enhance the picture! We can almost feel the long sliver of silvery drool that will soon emerge! Wimsey Cooking Eggs.

Portrait of a Wimsey van Heythusen and his human

2008-07-24T19:38:00.000-04:00

We examine the work of another great Dutch painter, Frans Hals. Hals is known for his lively, fresh portraits and loose brush strokes. He favored a silvery light and giving his portraits a “you are there” immediacy: Portrait of Willem van Heythusen (Frans Hals, circa 1625, Alte Pinakothek, Munich). Willem van Heythusen was a wealthy, religious yarn trader who used his wealth to establish two almshouses. However his serious and somewhat haughty demeanor makes him a little unsympathetic to our modern eye. But see how different he appears when painted in the company of a serious and haughty Hound who is guaranteed to get the better of him and keep him humble. Portrait of a Wimsey van Heythusen and his human.

The Wimsey Maid

2008-07-24T19:34:00.000-04:00

We travel to the Netherlands to look at a very famous painting by Dutch baroque painter Johannes Vermeer (The Milkmaid, 1658, Johannes Vermeer, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam). Not much is known about Vermeer—he spent his entire life in Delft and died at the young age of 43—to his wife he left 11 children and to posterity some of the finest masterpieces of 17th century Dutch art. Vermeer was fond of painting interior domestic scenes utilizing glowing, luminescent colors. And what a wonderful scene this is—the contrasting blues and yellows bathed in a soft northern light. But there is a table with food upon it and the milkmaid is pouring milk from a jug—who is this for? You can see how this key omission is instantly solved by the insertion of a beautiful and luminescent hound who gazes lovingly at the woman who is about to provide such bounty for his tender stomach. The Wimsey Maid.

The Coronation of Wimsey

2008-07-24T19:31:00.001-04:00

We visit the Louvre to see Jacques-Louis David’s masterpiece The Coronation of Napoleon (Jacques-Louis David, 1806, Musee du Louvre, Paris). Now this painting commemorates Napoleon crowning himself and Josephine Emperor and Empress in Notre Dame Cathedral. But it is a little known historical fact that Napoleon was much more attached to his Hound than he was to his wife (an all too common phenomenon) so it makes much more sense that Napoleon would bestow the great honor on his beloved great hound. The Coronation of Wimsey.

The Harvest Hound

2008-07-24T19:26:00.001-04:00

We return to New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art to see a painting by Pieter Brueghel who, although Flemish, painted this picture during the reign of that uber Tudor Elizabeth I (The Harvesters, Pieter Bruegel, 1565, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Now although very hard work, harvest time (like spring) was also a time for hearty rejoicing. Now see how the addition of a lively, roaching Hound adds to the festive atmosphere of Brueghel’s great masterpiece of peasant life! The Harvest Hound.

Wimsey and the Lute Player

2008-07-24T19:21:00.001-04:00

Venus and the Lute Player (Titian, 1865, Metropolitan Museum of Art). Now although Titian was a Renaissance artist and therefore inclined to engage in much classical inspired nudity, I think that the lady in the painting would create much less trouble if she displayed far fewer of her charms (especially as she looks as if she could stand to spend a few more hours in the gym and a few less at the table). See how much more tasteful the painting looks with the addition of a Hound covering her naughty bits. Now she is much less likely to incite the rampant appetites of New York’s passionate and romantic governors (who knew we were such a hot blooded state! It’s just another illustration of how one can’t judge a book by its cover---just like when people think I look mellow. And sweet. And intelligent. And well behaved.). Wimsey and the Lute Player.

Wimsey with a Hoop

2008-07-24T19:17:00.000-04:00

Let us take a look at Girl With a Hoop (Pierre-Augusta Renoir, 1885, National Gallery, Washington DC). By the time he painted this, Renoir, who was among the best known impressionists, had broken with the movement and was exploring new ways to paint (like me always searching for newer and more artistic ways to be disruptive in the show ring). In this painting he employed a more disciplined technique using tighter brush strokes while striving to retain the luminosity of color that characterizes impressionism. Very laudable, but the little girl in the picture looks very lonely and her hoop very tempting. How much nicer a picture with the addition of a large playful hound chewing on her hoop! In our imagination we can see the endless amounts of fun she will have trying to get the hoop away from the Hound and how much quicker he will be than she is to catch up with it when it rolls. Wimsey With a Hoop.

Wimsey's Bedroom in Arles

2008-07-24T19:15:00.000-04:00

Our visit takes us to the South of France—Arles to be exact where master Dutch (how do you say bloodhound in Dutch, I wonder) post impressionist Vincent Van Gogh painted a picture of his bedroom in his beloved yellow house. Bedroom in Arles (Vincent Van Gogh, 1888, Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam). Van Gogh hoped to express rest and solidity in this simple room but see how much more serene and peaceful the scene looks with a solid, snoozing Hound occupying the bed. And notice how the lovely color of the Hound complements the strong, bright colors of the room! Now it really looks likes one could get an excellent night’s rest while waiting for Gauguin to arrive. Wimsey’s Bedroom Arles.

The Duchess of Wimsey

2008-07-21T21:26:00.001-04:00

We have a painting by the great Spanish painter Francisco Goya, who is considered one of the fathers of

modern art The Mourning Portrait of the Duchess of Alba, (Francisco Goya,1797, Hispanic Society, New York). Now this work was painted just after the Duchess lost her husband, which however unfortunate for the Duke was a boon for the Duchess and the artist who were something of an item. And although the Duchess was considered the most beautiful Spanish woman of her time, I think her beauty can be enhanced substantially by the presence of a magnificent Hound draped consolingly about her neck. The Duchess of Wimsey

The Judgment of Wimsey

2008-07-21T21:24:00.001-04:00

Thie painting involves one of antiquities most dramatic beauty contests—it was like Westminster for goddesses: The Judgment of Paris (Peter Paul Rubens, 1597, National Gallery, London). Now Best in Show was down to three of Mount Olympus’ most beautiful goddesses: Athena (aka. Ch. Minerva’s Goddess of Wisdom) Hera (aka Ch. Juno’s Wife of Zeus) and Aphrodite (aka Ch. Venus’ Goddess of Love). The painting depicts Best in Show judge Paris awarding the blue ribbon (a golden apple in this case) to Aphrodite. But unfortunately the goddesses had made attempts to bribe the judge—Athena offered wisdom (yawn), Hera offered to make Paris a great king (a pretty good gig) and Aphrodite offered Paris the love of the world’s most beautiful woman (who unfortunately was someone else’s wife). I bet you can’t guess which one he chose (even in ancient times men’s brains were in their togas). It never seemed to have occurred to the chap that if he were a powerful king, the love of beautiful women would be sure to follow (women’s hearts being often found in their Fendi handbags). But I digress. Now the best in show line up was woefully incomplete without the addition of a magnificent Hound who clearly is about to snatch the prize away from Aphrodite, altruistically preventing the start of the Trojan War and sparing generations of students (whose only interest in Homer is surnamed Simpson) the agony of struggling through The Iliad (“if you loved The Odyssey…. Yes there’s more!!!”) The Judgment of Wimsey.

Wimsey Bath Night

2008-07-21T21:21:00.001-04:00

We travel back to ancient times to examine a masterwork from the Egyptian Book of the Dead depicting a purification ritual from the tomb of Sennefer who was a mayor of Thebes. Clearly the purification liquid was extremely valuable and it makes no sense that there was no Hound shown in the act of stealing it. This is the first depiction in recorded history of Wimsey Bath Night.

Wimsey Farren

2008-07-21T21:20:00.000-04:00

Elizabeth Farren (Sir Thomas Lawrence, 1790, Metropolitan Museum of Art New York). Since we are so preoccupied these days with the success that beauty can bring, we have no better subject than Elizabeth (great first name) Farren, an Irish actress who later traded up big time and became the Countess of Derby. Kind of like “Sex and the City” goes Georgian. (I bet the relatives were thrilled and I suspect that the Earl, whose second wife she was, was short, fat and bald). Anyway, in this portrait Ms. Farren is looking at us and carelessly ignoring the fact that she is dangling quite an alluring piece of fur. How much more sense the painting makes if her carelessness has attracted the attentions of a fur loving Hound. Wimsey Farren.

Wimsey Boating

2008-07-21T21:18:00.000-04:00

Boating (Edouard Manet, 1874, Metropolitan Museum of Art). Notice the beautiful intensity of the blue palette and the unusual cropping of the painting which makes it feel as if we are about to step onto the boat ourselves. And of course we notice the feeling of light and air that are the hallmarks of all impressionist paintings. But see how much more relaxing the painting appears with the insertion of an indolent Hound lolling next to the sailor. Notice the helpful paw the Hound has placed on the sailor’s knee, alerting him, no doubt, to some navigational error he is about to commit. Wimsey Boating

Wimsey and Two Girls at the Piano

2008-07-21T21:17:00.000-04:00

We return once again to the oeuvre of Renoir for inspiration.
Two Girls at the Piano (Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1892, Metropolitan Museum of Art). In 1891 or 1892 Renoir was asked to contribute a painting to the Musee de Luxembourg—a museum that was to be devoted to living artists. Renoir elected to paint a charming scene of domesticity, but see how much more charming and domestic the scene is if the girls are accompanying the singing of their large baying hound? And see how much the Hound is enjoying the performance. Isn’t he magnificent? Wimsey and Two Girls at the Piano.

Wimsey at His Toilet

2008-07-21T21:15:00.001-04:00

Venus at her Toilet (Diego Velazquez, 1599, National Gallery, London). Diego Velazquez was a leading painter of the Spanish golden age and this is the only surviving female nude painted by him (and in fact one of very few nudes from Spain of this era in general--the Spanish Inquisition taking a dim view of such displays of female pulchritude-- and they were a painful lot to get on the wrong side of). However, Velazquez painted his Venus when he snuck off to Italy (probably to escape painting yet another masterwork of the less than comely King Phillip IV and his lovely family, which, as the court painter, was Velazquez’ regular gig ) where he was undoubtedly inspired by the more body friendly art of the ancient world. Some people think that the painting is actually a portrait of his mistress which might explain her very modern, athletic looking physique (as Venus’ go she is pretty skinny—none of those usual rolls of oh so desirable rosy flesh here). It also might explain why Venus’ face has been deliberately painted in a hazy fashion (of course Velazquez could have been making a proto feminist statement as to which bits of the female body men really pay attention to, but I don’t think so). Anyway, since she (and we) can’t really see her face in that fuzzy mirror, the painting makes a lot more sense if our Venus is gazing lovingly into the extravagantly beautiful face of a Hound. Wimsey at his Toilet (of course in the modern vernacular this would be a painting of me in a Central Park bush).

Wimsey Boating on the Seine

2008-07-21T21:13:00.000-04:00

We travel to Paris via the eyes of Renoir: Boating on the Seine (1875, Pierre-August Renoir, National Gallery, London). Renoir was one of the original impressionists—those artists who hoped to capture nature on the canvas by painting outdoors with loose brush strokes. In this painting the artist uses the complementary colors of blue and orange to bring out the intensity of both. But this boat appears unbalanced somehow—both figures are skewed to the right See how much better the painting looks and how much more nature is captured with the addition of a large Hound who is also enjoying an outing on the river. Wimsey Boating on the Seine.

The Gleaning Hound

2008-07-20T14:42:00.000-04:00

We are looking at a famous painting of rural life:
The Gleaners (Jean-Francois Millet, 1857, Musee d’Orsay). Millet was one of the most renowned painters of the Barbizon School—named for a village near the Forest of Fontainebleau in France. These painters were interested in painting nature in a more realistic style than had previously been done. Nevertheless, Millet’s painting shocked the art critics when it was exhibited. The monumental and dignified appearance of the peasants was apparently unheard of and the act of gleaning or picking up what was left after the harvest smacked of socialism. Well, the terms “monumental” and “dignified” define The Hound, and we hounds are all about taking stuff from the rich (as well as from everyone else too). But see how more dramatic the painting is with the insertion of a monumental and dignified Hound, helpfully defending the rights of the gleaners whilst engaging in a little gleaning himself. Who would dare interfere with them when they are in the presence of such a handsome and imposing animal? (I myself do quite a bit of gleaning—I glean dirty socks from the laundry bin and chunks of food from the dining room table). The Gleaning Hound

Son of Hound

2008-07-20T14:41:00.001-04:00

I have decided that we should examine the work of a very famous surrealist: "The Son of Man" (Rene Magritte, 1964, privately owned): Magritte was a Belgian surrealist who, when allegedly asked for a self portrait, painted himself as a businessman in front of the sea with his face obscured by a green apple. The use of the apple combined with the title might suggest that the modern businessman is “everyman” and the apple represents his temptation. Alternatively, Magritte himself said of the painting: Everything we see hides another thing, we always want to see what is hidden by what we see, but it is impossible. Humans hide their secrets too well... Well, whatever. Surrealists were notoriously cryptic and some believe that they deliberately create unknowable mysteries to mimic the human condition. But I find this painting distinctly incomplete. No true son of man can be unaccompanied by a Hound and if Magritte thought that humans hide their secrets too well, he never met a Hound. Maria is still looking for her favorite bra. Where is it? I’ll never tell. Son of Hound

Arrangement in Gray, Black and Tan: The Artist’s Mother (and musical Hound

2008-07-20T14:40:00.000-04:00

Arrangement in Gray and Black: The Artist’s Mother (aka: Whistler’s Mother): (James McNeil Whistler, 1871, Musee d’Orsay, Paris). Now this is perhaps one of the most famous and recognizable of all American paintings, although Whistler, who mostly hung out in Paris with his luminary buddies Manet and Degas, painted this while he was in London. Whistler had to add “the Artist’s Mother” bit to his original title because Victorians were outraged at a the concept (however artistically motivated) of reducing one’s mother to an “arrangement.” (modern mothers would of course be happy to be noticed, let alone painted, by their adult offspring in any context, but the Victorians were a sentimental lot). Anyway, Whistler was born in Massachusetts but liked to pretend to be an aristocratic Southern military man (the pre-Google dark ages) on the strength of the fact that he was kicked out of out of West Point for failure to pass chemistry (that should make a lot of folks feel better). Anyway, while Whistler was swanning about Paris reinventing himself, the great Marcel Proust (a Wimsey favorite and role model) was reinventing him too, as the painter Elstir in Remembrance of Things Past. There are two famous stories about this painting: one that Whistler’s mother only posed because a model canceled and two, that she is sitting down because she found standing too difficult. And so even great masterpieces, like great Hounds, are frequently the products of serendipity. But however great the masterpiece, it is still very unclear what Whistler’s mother is looking at (and perhaps listening to) with such intensity. This problem is easily corrected. Arrangement in Gray, Black and Tan: The Artist’s Mother (and musical Hound).

Wimsey At the Moulin Rouge.

2008-07-20T14:38:00.002-04:00

Once again we return to France for our inspiration, this time to a place famous for fun and frolic, The Moulin Rouge.

At the Moulin Rouge (Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, 1892, Art Institute of Chicago). Now the Moulin Rouge was a cabaret built in 1889 and famous for all kinds of notorious goings on, including professional ladies dancing the can-can, sometimes sans underpants. We know a lot about this place largely because Toulouse-Lautrec produced paintings and illustrations that brought it to such stunning life—so identified was he with this decadent aspect of Parisian life that he was known as the “soul of Monmartre” the district where the cabaret was located. In any case, however accurate a depiction of the club that this painting aspires to, there is one puzzling feature. There is a table with an unmolested water bottle. Now surely the whole scene is much more realistic with the inclusions of a demimondaine Hound about to filch it. Wimsey At the Moulin Rouge.

Wimsey Boy

2008-07-20T14:38:00.001-04:00

Though we have on view one of the world’s most famous paintings, it too can benefit from some houndly intervention. The Blue Boy (Thomas Gainsborogh, 1770, The Huntington Gallery, San Marino, California). Now this famous portrait is not at all what it seems—although the boy looks quite posh, he is really the son of a hardware merchant and his blue outfit, which is in the style of the early 1600s, is really a costume. The painting was Gainsborough’s homage to Anthony Van Dyck, an artistic luminary of the previous century. But what is really shockingly amiss is that that magnificent feather in the boy’s hat is resting entirely unmolested. In a nation of Hounds what are the odds of that happening! The addition of a Hound messing with the feather adds truth and verisimilitude to an otherwise deceptive portrait. Wimsey Boy.

The Countess of Chinchon and Her Lap Hound Wimsey

2008-07-20T14:36:00.001-04:00

The Countess of Chinchon (Francisco Goya, 1800, Prado Museum, Madrid). Here we have a beautiful work by the Spanish Romantic painter Francisco Goya. This painting hails from a period when Goya devoted himself to painting women and children instead of the horrors of war that characterized his later work. And this little countess is so young, so fragile and so sad in spite of her beautiful and richly painted gown. Forced by the King’s order to marry at 18 to a man she despised, Goya beautifully captures the lady’s premature sadness. But what a consolation it would be for her if she had a little hound upon which to dote! It is very difficult to be sad in the presence of a hound even if one has a wealthy and unfaithful relative of the king’s for a husband. The Countess of Chinchon and Her Lap Hound Wimsey.

The Adoration of the Golden Wimsey

2008-07-20T14:35:00.000-04:00

The Adoration of the Golden Calf (Nicolas Poussin, 1634, National Gallery, London) We return again to France to find this week’s artist in need of a Hound. This time we have on view a famous picture by one of the masters of French 17th century art, Nicolas Poussin. The son of a Norman farmer, Poussin’s work was improbably heavily influenced by stylistic elements of antiquity and this painting, although dealing with a biblical theme, smacks of a Greco-Roman bacchanal. The figures appear to be both active and static at the same time—all part of Poussin’s genius. However, it really doesn’t make much sense that people would choose to worship a calf—cows being not especially intelligent and only semi-cute—when there are so many more suitable animals available. See how the painting makes so much more sense if the worshippers are celebrating the presence of a Golden Hound in their midst! Isn’t he beautiful? And so appropriately placed on a pedestal —it could almost be today. The Adoration of the Golden Wimsey

Wimsey's Olympia

2008-07-20T14:33:00.000-04:00

I have always fancied myself a bit of a pasha. Therefore it is entirely appropriate that we examine one of the great Odalisques of the art world:

Olympia (Edouard Manet, 1863, Musee d’Orsay, Paris). Well, we have previously seen how Manet’s “Dejeuner Sur L’herbe” caused a scandal in the art world, but the furor over Olympia was even worse. The site of this brazen, yet sensuous courtesan, painted in a realistic style, boldly looking at us in open challenge infuriated and shocked many viewers. The painting even had to be protected to keep people from damaging it. But see how the atmosphere of “luxe, calme et volupte” is enhanced by the bold glance of a sensuously draped Hound. And the presence of the Hound even clarifies the look on the face of the servant: she is undoubtedly questioning the sanity of her mistress (like so many of Maria’s acquaintances also do when viewing me at full drape). Anyway, the presence of the large Hound also serves to emphasize the elegant petiteness of the subject, thus enhancing her beauty. Olympia is clearly pleased by the presence of the Great Hound, unlike Elizabeth who often complains that I make her look even shrimpier. Clearly she lacks the taste of Olympia in failing to perceive the potential allure of shrimpiness. Wimsey’s Olympia.

The Big Wimsey

2008-07-20T14:31:00.000-04:00

The Big Tree, ((Te raau rahi ) Paul Gauguin, 1891, The Art Institute of Chicago). Now first off, I really like this picture because of the fact that “Te raau rahi” sounds like a noise that I would actually make, although in my case it means “Give me that!” (most of my noises have a tendency to mean “Give me that”). Also, Gauguin was a man after my own heart—always searching for greater degrees of sensual experience—he on his grass pallet in Tahiti and me on my couch on the Upper West Side. But although Gauguin was a great post-impressionist and a father of modern art he failed to notice how the addition of a Hound could improve upon the idyllic scene he depicts. See how the insertion of a Hound adds to the primitive mysteries surrounding us in this fine painting. The Hound’s central position indicates the essential nature of the houndly being to all human endeavor. The Big Wimsey

Two Dancers on a Stage

2008-07-20T14:23:00.004-04:00

Two Dancers on A Stage (Edgar Degas, 1874, Courtauld Institute of Art, London). French impressionist Edgar Degas was justifiably famous for his “through the keyhole” paintings of the arduous life of Parisian ballerinas. However, beautiful and poignant these paintings may be, Degas missed a major opportunity to enhance them with the addition of a gorgeous, graceful dancing Hound. As you can see the insertion of the Hound adds new interest to a scene so familiar to admirers of Degas (although I must say, I think the tutu makes me look fat). Anyway we can fully admire the grace and beauty of the Hound with his swan like neck in full extension, his delicate feet positioned en avant and his manly attributes boldly displayed.

Water Wimseys

2008-07-20T14:18:00.003-04:00

We return to the great nation of France—land of food, fashion and bloodhounds—to examine an artist who definitely embodied the admirable single mindedness of The Hound. Claude Monet liked to paint water lilies—I mean he really, really really liked to paint them in the same way that I really, really, really like to shove my nose into Maria’s morning cereal. (Claude Monet, Water Lilies, 1920-1926, Musee de l’Orangerie). And if one painting of water lilies is good, 250 of them are even better! But of course, as much as I admire his stubborn devotion to painting water lilies, there is a small problem with the concept. With so many paintings of water lilies they all kind of look alike after a while. But here you can see that the insertion of a magnificent, art loving Hound lounging on one of these redundant lily pads instantly differentiates it from all the other 249 pictures of these fascinating water lilies. Water Wimseys.

The Winged Wimsey of Samothrace

2008-07-11T07:58:00.001-04:00

The Winged Victory of Samothrace (sculptor unknown, circa 220 to 190 BC, Musee du Louvre). This beautiful marble sculpture depicts Nike, the winged goddess of victory (not the winged goddess of athletic apparel as is commonly thought today), and was discovered in 1863 on the island of Samothrace by an amateur French archeologist. (Another example of the excellent taste of the French, whose finely honed sensibilities led them to develop the exquisite Bloodhound). The statue probably was commissioned to commemorate a naval victory by the island of Rhodes. Sadly, the beauty of this sculpture is marred by the loss of its head, which was never found. But this can be easily remedied and what better a head to have than that of a perpetually victorious Hound.
The Winged Wimsey of Samothrace

The Wimsey Watch

2008-07-11T07:55:00.001-04:00

The Night Watch (Rembrandt van Rijn, 1642, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam) Now this painting was commissioned by the captain of a civic militia guard and is famous for its colossal size (11ft by 14 feet) and its use of light and shadow and the creation of motion. However, you can immediately see that there is a problem with the painting: all of the guards are handicapped—they can neither hear intruders nor smell them and they are missing two legs. Also, like most humans, they would have problems detecting the small movements created by approaching malefactors. But with the addition of a Hound sounding the alarm, all these problems are obviated and the militia can have a successful night watch. (The Wimsey Watch)

Mona Wimsey

2008-07-09T20:15:00.000-04:00

Mona Lisa (Leonardo Da Vinci, 1503-07, Musee du Louvre): Now this painting, although probably of the wife of a Florentine business man, is thought to depict an ideal of feminine beauty. It was purchased from Leonardo by the French King Francois I—a man who was also a connoisseur of Chiens de St. Hubert (bloodhounds), so he really knew something about beauty. In addition to speculation about Mona Lisa’s identity, the thing that has most puzzled art historians through the ages is the nature of her smile. Why is she smiling??? But see how we can instantly solve the mystery by the judicious insertion of a hound! A woman with an affectionate Hound head in her lap can hardly resist smiling—such is the joy and admiration that the Hound elicits among mere mortals. Mona Wimsey

Sunday Afternoon on the Island of the Grande Wimsey

2008-07-09T20:14:00.001-04:00

Sunday Afternoon on the Island of the Grande Jatte, (Georges Seurat, 1864, Art Institute of Chicago). This is one of the most famous pictures painted in the pointillist style—pointillists believed that their optical theories, which involved painting using dots, would make colors more brilliant than regular brush strokes. In this painting Seurat concentrates on color, light and above all form. But there seems to be a jarring, empty space in the middle of the picture which I think detracts from its splendor. See how the presence of a Hound immediately creates more visual interest and a focal point (as Hounds always are) for the painting. Sunday Afternoon on the Island of the Grande Wimsey

Wimsey sur L'Herbe

2008-07-09T20:12:00.000-04:00

Dejeuner sur l’Herbe (Edouard Manet, 1863, Musee d’Orsay). OK, so this picture created an outcry when it was first exhibited because of the presence of nude women and clothed men. People imagined all kinds of things could be going on, but you see how the insertion of a Hound (nude of course) instantly gives reassurance that nothing untoward will happen to the women. The painting depicts the moment before the picnickers notice that a Hound is about to eat their food. And notice how the graceful curves of the Hound echo the graceful curves of the human figures. Wimsey sur L’Herbe

Wimsey Gothic

2008-07-09T20:09:00.000-04:00

American Gothic (Grant Wood, 1930, Art Institute of Chicago): Now this is one of the most iconic of all American paintings. It depicts the artist’s sister and his dentist, in a formal, stiff pose reminiscent of the style of northern renaissance paintings. It has always been unclear whether the painting is glorifying or mocking Midwestern culture. However, in either case, I have always felt that this painting is seriously lacking the one iconic element that would make it complete. The front porch looks disturbingly empty, a situation which I was able to rectify with a simple addition. Wimsey Gothic

The Bay

2008-07-09T20:08:00.000-04:00

The Scream (Edvard Munch, 1893, Munch Museum, Oslo): This is a very famous painting by Norwegian expressionist Edvard Munch. Now the fellow he depicts is clearly upset. But why? Some say it’s the existential angst of man in the modern age, some say it depicts the eruption of Krakatoa but no one really knows. But with a simple houndly addition we can instantly resolve the ambiguity! Now the painting makes perfect and indisputable sense. The man is covering his ears in pain and admonishing his Hound to stop baying! My humans look like this a lot too. (“The Bay”)

The Birth of Wimsey (and Venus)

2008-07-09T20:06:00.000-04:00

The Birth of Venus (Sandro Botticelli, 1483, Uffizi Museum. Florence): This painting was created for Botticelli’s good pal Lorenzo de Medici and is a departure from the classical realism of other Renaissance artists such as Leonardo da Vinci and Raphael—see how Venus’ neck is anatomically too long and her left shoulder is a little weird. But although lovely, don’t you think she looks very lonely up there, gazing wistfully out from her shell? As the symbol of human beauty does she not yearn to be joined by an equal paragon of canine beauty? So here I have thoughtfully pushed her aside to make room for an exquisitely luminescent Hound. (“The Birth of Wimsey (and Venus)").

Wimsey's World

2008-07-09T20:04:00.000-04:00

Christina's World (Andrew Wyeth, 1948, Museum of Modern Art, New York): Now this is a very lovely painting, intensely evoking the feelings of solitude and isolation of the limitless, empty spaces of the iconic American West. However, it is never clear what Christina is reaching for—is it hope, or the future or is she expressing the despair of the unattainable? Now all these abstract sentiments are very well and good, but they are terribly complicated and we can never be certain of what the artist really intended. But see how the addition of a Hound clarifies the situation instantly! What could make better sense than that Christina is reaching for her magnificent Hound to give him a well deserved scratch? See how much easier it is to understand the painting now. (“Wimsey’s World”)