MASTERPIECE #3294

Jan van Beers, Belgian

“Okay, Joke’s Over. Where’d You Hide My Comb?,” Between 1874 and 1897

Oil on panel

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mabrndt
mabrndt
7 months ago

Info about this artist is pointed to by links in my comment at another blog entry.

Solstice*1947
Solstice*1947
7 months ago

/// Jan van Beers painted Henri Rochefort,
a French writer and pol, and much more.
He looks like Charlie Ruggles,
but with coiffure he struggles.
(Struck by lightning bolts summoned by Thor?)

/// He wrote vaudevilles, light comic plays,
which would bring him success and much praise.
Ran a newspaper, too;
and fought duels,(quite a few);
into politics, then Henri strays.

/// Paintings show his wild “upstanding” hair,
but of strife he had more than his share.
For his views was attacked,
and yet, oddly he backed
the wrong side in the Dreyfus Affair.

/// Rochefort wasn’t a right-wing buffoon.
He’d supported the Paris Commune.
Could he have hated Jews?
It should not come as news
that some on the far left ain’t immune.

/// For the Socialist cause he protested.
Had to flee, and, if not, got arrested.
Went to prison at times
for political “crimes,”
and a daring escape manifested.

/// Anna-Catherine, his wife, some might mock.
She hung out with von Sacher-Masoch.
Books reveal between covers
that she took many lovers.
Did his hair look like that from the shock?

/// Told, “Your painting is done,” Henri cheers.
Held this same pose for what seemed like years.
“Celebrate,” he exclaims,
“feasting on both our names.”
They had Rochefort* cheese and some Beers.

* (Alternate spelling of Roquefort.)

Solstice*1947
Solstice*1947
7 months ago

/// Henri’s suit is all spattered with mud.
Hands and fingernails crusted with crud.
Just what cruel twist of fate
left him in such a state?
Waded here through a nipple-deep flood.

> or <

/// When he scanned down the newspaper page,
Henri’s right hand clutched tightly in rage.
A poor editor had
confused him with his Dad,
and had grossly misstated his age!

> or <

/// Manet put his own modernist stamp
on portraying Rochefort, cold and damp.
He escapes in a boat
that is barely afloat.
(Looks like Chaplin as the “Little Tramp.”)

> or <

/// Few things make Henri’s hair stand on end.
Reading bad news about a good friend.
Here, he can’t comprehend
why newspapers descend
to, the morally bankrupt, defend.

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