“Personally, I don’t see the resemblance.”
“What do you mean? It’s an oil portrait of a French nobleman from the 16th century. How do you know how he’s supposed to look?”
(more)
“Well, he’s got the doughiness I would expect from a rich guy alright, but he looks too clean. Where’s the candleblack and the grease?”
“They did bathe then, you know. It’s a common misconception that everyone walked around stinking and filthy.”
“Maybe... but his skin’s like a baby’s. Not a spot on him.”
“It’s a painting, not a photo. You ever consider that the painter might choose to flatter his subject? Omit a wrinkle here, overlook a bump there?”
“I get that. But look at his hair. It’s perfect. Real hair doesn’t do that.”
“So your objection to the painting , a painting mind you, is that the guy being represented isn’t slovenly enough?”
“Well, yeah.... kind of. I mean he might as well be a cartoon.”
“Perhaps French court portraiture of the high renaissance just isn’t your thing.”
“Maybe. But look at the painting next to it. It’s done by the same artist and, look, the duke or whatever in this one looks like a schlub. Kinda looks like a guy I know from work. Right down to the bald patch. A little uncanny. That’s realism. Unvarnished humanity. That’s my kind of art.”
“Just admit you like your nobleman bald and ugly. Less threatening to your ego, maybe?”
“Oh, stop. I just like my art to be real, not some put-up job by the artist.”
“My, you’re so authentic. Authentically weird.”
“Watch it, or I may have to cut off my ear.”
“Oh, so you’re a surrealist now?”(less)
