Miles Kington Remembered: Remember, Edgar – paint them wide, not long
3 November 1994
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.It is normally said that the Impressionist School of painting developed as a protest against the academic conventions of the day in France, and as a new means of self-expression. But a recently discovered conversation between Monet and Degas suggests things may not have been so simple.
Monet: Morning, Edgar.
Degas: Morning, Claude. What have you got there?
Monet: It's a lily.
Degas: Present for someone?
Monet: No, just taking it to the studio to paint. Doing a picture called Lilies in the Garden.
Degas: So why don't you paint it in the garden?
Monet: Too freezing cold, mon vieux.
Degas: Hmm. Good job you aren't English, that's all I can say.
Monet: Well, I agree, but what makes you say that?
Degas: If you go down the street in England carrying a lily, they put you in prison.
Monet: Is that a satirical reference to poor old Oscar Wilde?
Degas: That was the intention.
Monet: Oh, very topical. Not very funny, but very topical.
Degas: Thanks a million. Incidentally, what's that under your other arm?
Monet: That? Oh, that's an Impressionist painting.
Degas: And what might that be when it's at home?
Monet: It's something I've invented recently. Want to see?
Degas: Try me.
Monet: There! What do you think?
Degas: Blimey! It's sort of... blurry, isn't it?
Monet: Yes. That's the idea.
Degas: What's it meant to be, if you don't mind me asking?
Monet: High tide at Honfleur.
Degas: You could have fooled me.
Monet: Maybe it's low tide at Honfleur. I'm not much of a sailor.
Degas: But it is Honfleur?
Monet: Oh, yes! Or maybe it's Deauville.
Degas: Hmm... What's it for?
Monet: Well, you just write on the back ''Thanks for a lovely dinner – we must have you round to us as soon as is humanly possible, and as soon as Julian's crazy workload eases off a bit!'' and then you send it off to the people you had dinner with.
Degas: I beg your pardon?
Monet: You write on the back "Thanks for a lovely dinner – we must have you round to us..."
Degas: Yes, I heard that. It's just that... well, it's a bit big to send round to someone's house after a dinner party as a thank you note, isn't it? And somewhat expensive to send a whole painting?
Monet: Sure. This is the clever thing. You don't send the painting. You send a photograph of the painting!
Degas: Hold on, hold on, let me get this straight. You take a photo of the painting and write on the back "Thanks for the lovely dinner..." and send it round?
Monet: That's it.
Degas: I don't believe it.
Monet: We've done the research. There's a vast market for tiny photographic reproductions of big paintings which people can use to send each other thanks for dinner parties.
Degas: You're joking!
Monet: I kid you not.
Degas: If you say so, Claude.
Monet: Here's another thing. A lot of these Impressionist paintings actually look better when reduced to the size of a postcard. That's why they are so blurry. Look, go over there and have a look from 20 metres away at my high tide at Honfleur...
Degas (shouting): You're right! All those blurry blots of paint actually look like little boats from here! Not much, but a bit...
Monet: Well, they'll look better on postcards, too.
Degas (returning): So people will be able to buy photos of the painting without owning the painting?
Monet: Without even seeing it. I don't suppose more than one in a million will ever come face to face with the original painting. They will just send each other postcards of a painting they have never seen. And the reproduction rights will make us a fortune!
Degas: Hmm... I think you're on to something, Claude. Mind if I jump on the bandwagon?
Monet: Plenty of room on board, old chap. Just one hint, though. Make the paintings wider than they're long – landscape, not portrait. Market research shows that people don't like buying upright postcards so much.
Degas: Right-ho. Thanks for the tip... You'd better hurry. That lily's wilting.
Monet: You're right. A bientot.
Degas: Hasta la vista.
Authentic copies of this early Impressionist conversation are available from me. Just send me your name, address and a blank cheque.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments