hurry to meet him, before he’s gone again


Whoever he is, he is back. Exactly 100 years ago, the Blue Boy, a full-length image of Thomas Gainsborough around 1770, was honored at the National Gallery for a three-week valedictory exhibition after the Duke of Westminster sold it to American tycoon Henry E. Huntington. .. Record price. Perhaps 90,000 people bid on this highly beloved masterpiece of British art, impressed by the vision of an innocent youth in a time when the defeat of World War I was still vivid. When the painting was finally packaged, the gallery director wrote “aurevoir” on its stretcher with a pencil before it departed for the California ocean liner, which has been hanging since then.

Finally, the wish-like inscription that can be read today has been realized. Towering in the dark landscape, a sparkling blue satin costume reminiscent of the glamorous portrait of a 17th-century Flemish painter and court painter Charles I, Anthony van Dyck, and Gainesborough’s Blue Boy returning to Trafalgar Square for 16 weeks. It is still shining.

Like a closed VIP, he has his own private room near the magnificent entrance. There, while confidently staring at us with one hand on his hips, he occupies the entire wall himself, accompanied by aides of four equivalent works. Gainesborough and Van Dyck. We still don’t know his identity, long since he last appeared on this stage. When exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1770, it was only described as a “portrait of a young gentleman.”

But in minutes, the anonymous model company has never visited Huntington in San Marino (which hasn’t rented a job before) and reveals details confessing that I’ve passed by. The thickness of the white paint that draws the tunic edges of his tunic. Intentionally and casually treating satin reflections: ghostly lightning zigzags through blue. The bright skies on both sides of the fuselage give the impression that he is sprouting angel wings. The shiny intensity of those red lips echoed only in the half-visible sunset and the dirty rouge on his cheeks. He’s certainly cute, a little chap with this long lashes, but it’s not effective. Under his ears, a brown curl frolics, evoking the nasty energies of his childhood.



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