Art & History

Would you mind it if I told you a historical-religious story with a moral lesson? Because it relates to my post today, so there’s a point.  Plus it’s interesting.

There was this great king called Hezekiah who restored glory and honor to the people of Israel (which you can read about in 2 Kings 20). One time he became gravely ill and was told to put his affairs in order because he was going to die. He cried and prayed that he would live longer, and God answered his request and gave him 15 more years to his life. Cool, huh? That God would answer his prayer to live longer? I often think of this when I’m having another hypochondriac moment and think I’m nearing my end.

The only thing is, in those 15 years he managed to leave two horrible legacies, which shows that an early demise might have been preferable.  He “begat” his son Manasseh who was so evil, he was probably the worst of all of Israel’s kings. It says, “he shed so much innocent blood that he filled Jerusalem from end to end.”  (That’s in Chapter 21).

The other thing Hezekiah did was to show off all his possessions to the envoys from Babylon, who later came and sacked the city and took everything away. The prophet Isaiah told him that everything would be taken. “Nothing will be left,” says the Lord. “And some of your descendents, your own flesh and blood, that will be born to you, will be taken away, and they will become eunuchs in the palace of the King of Babylon.”  Whaa?

Now, did this magnificent king Hezekiah tear his clothes and wear sackcloth and ashes because he had been so foolish as to jeopardize his kingdom by tempting the Babylonians with his wealth? No he did not.

“The word of the Lord you have spoken is good,” Hezekiah replied. For he thought, “Will there not be peace and security in my lifetime?” (This totally reminds me of the attitude certain members of the American government hold towards the environment, by the way).

Oh snap. Religion and politics in one post, I am surely going to lose all my followers. No one will be left.

But the point? None of the following artwork I’m going to show you is of any value whatsoever, apart from sentimental. So please do not come and sack our house and cart everything away so that nothing is left.

Sir’s grandfather is from Hungary and their family knew a famous Hungarian painter, but we don’t know who it was.  We would have to study the style of all the Hungarian painters from that era in order to know. This is his great (great?) grandfather, whose portrait was charred in a fire and then restored.

His great-grandmother’s portrait (painted by the same) was destroyed in the same fire at Sir’s grandfather’s house.

Sir’s grandfather – we’ll call him Etienne because that’s his name – decided at age 40 that he was no longer going to be an architect. In fact he disappeared for a week, without telling his wife, and came back a week later saying he was going to be an artist. Some of those mid-life crises are not sounding so bad now, are they?

He did some work like this

and this

but the majority of his work was tiny squares. Like this

and this (the Four Seasons).

In all sorts of colors – 

red, which goes here near the door with the red prunus tree

and green

which goes here, next to the green linden tree.

This multi-colored one (blurry – sorry)

we want to put in the vast expanse that is our stairwell, above the light fixture there.

He invented a special material that was like glass cement, and was invited to paint one of the walls in the stairwell of the Louvre with it.  As far as I know, it’s still there.

This is his painting depicting the other paintings he wish could be hung there as well.

One other Hungarian we have is a reproduction of Gulacsy.

It reminds us of us.

Now, on the other side of Sir’s family is his grandmother, Claire.

That’s her. She went with her paintbrushes to Kisling’s house to get an art lesson, and the surprised painter said, “But I don’t give art lessons.” “Oh, but I came all this way,” she replied coyly.  She was very beautiful. So he gave her a lesson.

Her mom commissioned Kisling to paint her portrait as a wedding gift, but the original was sold. This is another repro.

On her side of the family were these two (which I’ve shown once before here).

The famous doctor of Mont D’Or

and his simple sister who sold a bunch of famous paintings to buy a dining room table.

Awww … we love her anyway.

And there are other artists in the family.

Sir – his “cerebral” work, as his grandmother called it.

His giraffe from our time in Africa. The colors are so soothing.

So I suppose it’s no surprise about Young Lady …

(Horrible spelling aside), it means, “I’m sorry I was naughty.  I promise I will try to listen to you.  Sorry Mommy.”  I know I’m being a typical mom, but her stick figures are full of life.  No seriously, you have to take my word for it.  This Lady’s got talent.

No art has any value unless it is loved.

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