Greetings to all you erudite, urbane, intellectual art lovers; and sophisticated readers of highbrow blogs. What on earth are you doing here in this literary backwater? Here we tippy toe on the intentions of the Old Masters with all the dainty dexterity of a hippo in a field of buttercups.
No character assassination of the Old Masters would be worth anything if we did not whack a Whistler; James McNeill Whistler to be precise. In 1871 he banged out this painting of his Mum