another hallway so time for some Friday fun.
Wondering this morning what I was going to post, I received an email from Leo with the following item of humour:
The Art Collector’s Wife:
A New York attorney representing a wealthy art collector called his client.
"I have some good news, and I have some bad news."
The art collector replied, "I've had an awful day. Give me the good news first."
The lawyer said, "Well, I met with your wife today, and she informed me that she just invested $5,000 in two pictures that she thinks will bring a minimum of $15 million to $20 million, and I think she could be right."
Saul replied enthusiastically, "Well done! My wife is a brilliant businesswoman! You've just made my day. Now I know I can handle the bad news. What is it?"
The lawyer replied, "The pictures are of you with your nude secretary."
Not a floor-roller, I give you, but one that gave me today’s theme: art.
This one’s a bit dated, it related more to the conditions (and official attitudes and pronouncements) of the 50’sand 60’s . . .
A Briton, a Frenchman and a Russian are viewing a painting of Adam and Eve frolicking in the Garden of Eden.
"Look at their reserve, their calm," muses the Brit. "They must be British."
"Nonsense," the Frenchman disagrees. "They're naked, and so beautiful. Clearly, they are French."
"No way! They have no clothes and no shelter," the Russian points out, "They have only an apple to eat, and they are being told they live in a paradise. Obviously, they are Russian."
An artist asked the gallery owner if there had been any interest in his paintings on display at that time.
"I have good news and bad news," the owner replied. "The good news is that a gentleman enquired about your work and wondered if it would appreciate in value after your death. When I told him it would, he bought all 15 of your paintings."
"That's wonderful," the artist exclaimed. "What's the bad news?"
"The guy was your doctor..."
There was this world famous painter. In the prime of her career, she started losing her eyesight. Fearful that she might lose her life as a painter, she went to see the best eye surgeon in the world.
After several weeks of delicate surgery and therapy, her eyesight was restored. The painter was so grateful that she decided to show her gratitude by repainting the doctor's office.
Part of her work included painting a gigantic eye on one wall. When she had finished her work, she held a press conference to unveil her latest work of art: the doctor's office.
During the press conference, one reporter noticed the eye on the wall, and asked the doctor, "What was your first reaction upon seeing your newly painted office, especially that large eye on the wall?"
To this, the eye doctor responded, "I said to myself 'Thank God I'm not a proctologist.'"
There was an artist who worked from a studio in his home. His model showed up at the usual time and, after exchanging the usual small talk, began to disrobe for the day’s work. The artist told her not to bother, since he had a bad cold. He added that he would pay her for the day anyway, but that she could just go home; he just wanted some hot tea with lemon and honey.
The model said, “Oh, please, let me fix it for you. It’s the least I can do.” He agreed, and told her to fix herself a cup as well. They were sitting in the living room chatting and enjoying their tea, when he heard the front door open and close, and then some familiar footsteps. “Oh my!” he whispered loudly, “It’s my wife! Quick! Take all your clothes off!”
Not sure if this is a true story or not, I would like to believe that it is . . .
A wealthy man commissioned Pablo Picasso to paint a portrait of his wife. Startled by the non-representational image on the final canvas, the woman’s husband complained, “It isn’t how she really looks.” When asked by the painter how she really looked, the man produced a photograph from his wallet. Returning the photography Pablo observed, “Small, isn’t she?”
One story about Picasso that is believed to be true . . .
In 1937 the German Luftwaffe, assisted by the Italian Fascist Aviazone Legionora, bombed the Basque town of Guernica in Spain, a focal point of Basque culture and an area of Republican sympathy during the Spanish Civil War. The attacks took place on a Monday when most of the population was at the markets. After 8 waves of carpet bombing raids, a forerunner to the later German blitzkrieg, planes strafed the roads in and out of the town.
Picasso had been commissioned by the Spanish Republican government to create a mural for the Paris International Exposition at the World’s Fair, to be held in Paris in 1937. On becomning aware of the tragedy of Guernica he immediately abandoned what he had been working on without enthusiasm for months, instead painting Guernica, an oil in black, white and grey, on canvas. Its images are stark, horrific, poignant.
During World War 2, Picasso remained in Paris. He did not exhibit, his artistic style being frowned upon by the Nazis. He nonetheless continued to paint despite being continually harassed by the Gestapo. A Gestapo officer, having observed a photograph of Guernica in Picasso’s apartment, asked Picasso with disgust “Did you do that?” “No,” responded Picasso, “you did.”
Some related humour . . .
Splitting the bill
If the Last Supper took place today
Vincent van Gough walks into a bar, and the bartender offers him a drink…
No thank you, said Vincent, I’ve got one ‘ere.
Boom boom tchh.
An artist decided to buy a new easel. He wasn't too sure what type to get. At the art shop they offered him two, a big one and a small one. He pondered for a while and finally decided on the lesser of two easels.
Thank you, you've been a lovely audience.