I love this painting, as does my husband, an art historian. He has opened my mind to art in ways I couldn’t have imagined, as your Sunday morning postings so often do. This one is so comforting and uplifting, two things we really need in current times. Thank you.
Your Sunday art posts are some of my favorites. I think I might have skimmed over this piece, but after reading your description I feel completely different. Knowing the story of a piece (or even reading your version of the story) changes everything for me. It makes me wish I had taken an art appreciation class in school.
Incidentally - I have printed two of your art recommendations - At Breakfast and the eggs painting by Antoine Vollon. I'm currently making walnut frames for them to hang in my kitchen. You have enriched my life in many ways - so thank you!
Gosh India your description of the light and the specifically the bit about the light flooding out of houses in winter is exactly how I feel, you’ve totally encapsulated that feeling. I was at an art exhibition yesterday and there was a painting that, had it not already been sold, I would have bought, of a street in Glasgow’s west end with the light flooding from the tenement flats in winter… just beautiful and also so comforting. ❤️
I LOVE Glasgow (much more than Edinburgh) and I especially love Glasgow with exactly that light out of the tenements on a really dreich day. The painting sounds wonderful.
I know that winter trudge very well, and the magical golden glow from people’s windows. (Christmassy! Box of Delights! Yes!)
Wasn’t it a shock when you went past a house with what must have been fluorescent strips and their hard, blue, thin light? So cold, like the inside of a fridge or a picture of an iceberg. I always wondered why they didn’t understand how uncosy their house looked and why didn’t they do something about it. There were always thin, unlined curtains too, with no generosity to them, so that when they were drawn they were just a single, miserable sheet of fabric hanging at the window.
I now realise that they were probably very low-cost rentals. The people living there were probably as fed up about the icy strip lights and the thin, flappy curtains as I was. But they were at the sharp end, living it, and I was a child of no awareness, basking in her middle-class privilege and warm-toned incandescent light bulbs.
Yes but it's also true that quite a lot of people weren't and aren't aware that they'd feel much more relaxed and happier in something less brutal. Also it is mad that nice lighting has become expensive - the old bayonet bulbs were at least egalitarian.
Wouldn't that be lovely? There was a hotel I loved that had a massive room on the top floor done out in pale blue corduroy (nicer than it sounds) with a flower pattern but alas about 20 years ago it got done up by a famous designer and lost all its soul.
Wonderful. Love the glow. I am in constant pursuit of the perfect type of lightbulb to achieve the same light…..so many lightbulbs labelled as a ‘warm white’ are still far too bright. A friend recommended Pooky Lights so I am going to take a look. 💡 🙂
If you scroll down a bit to the post called Getting Ready for Autumn, there's a long explanation of how to buy suitably yellow bulbs. Hope it's helpful.
I love this painting, as does my husband, an art historian. He has opened my mind to art in ways I couldn’t have imagined, as your Sunday morning postings so often do. This one is so comforting and uplifting, two things we really need in current times. Thank you.
What joy to be married to an art historian!
It can come in handy :)
Thank you for introducing me to this painting. I'm so struck by the clever use of blue for the shadows in those so inviting pillows!
Yes, really clever use of blue generally - it's a cold colour that he manages to make warm.
A painting and a bed to sink into, with books and tea of course. But
Books, tea, and nothing to do for a good few hours AT LEAST.
Your Sunday art posts are some of my favorites. I think I might have skimmed over this piece, but after reading your description I feel completely different. Knowing the story of a piece (or even reading your version of the story) changes everything for me. It makes me wish I had taken an art appreciation class in school.
Incidentally - I have printed two of your art recommendations - At Breakfast and the eggs painting by Antoine Vollon. I'm currently making walnut frames for them to hang in my kitchen. You have enriched my life in many ways - so thank you!
Oh wow, I'm so pleased about the printing and the frame making, how fantastic! And thank you so much for your kind words.
“It’s always the light” — love this, I’d like to walk right in to that room ☺️
Me too and I wouldn't walk out again unless I really had to.
😂
Gosh India your description of the light and the specifically the bit about the light flooding out of houses in winter is exactly how I feel, you’ve totally encapsulated that feeling. I was at an art exhibition yesterday and there was a painting that, had it not already been sold, I would have bought, of a street in Glasgow’s west end with the light flooding from the tenement flats in winter… just beautiful and also so comforting. ❤️
I LOVE Glasgow (much more than Edinburgh) and I especially love Glasgow with exactly that light out of the tenements on a really dreich day. The painting sounds wonderful.
As a West Coaster, I appreciate that! It is wonderful, sad it had gone. I hope it’s going to a good home.😞
😔
It’s beautiful. I want the wallpaper very much.
I know that winter trudge very well, and the magical golden glow from people’s windows. (Christmassy! Box of Delights! Yes!)
Wasn’t it a shock when you went past a house with what must have been fluorescent strips and their hard, blue, thin light? So cold, like the inside of a fridge or a picture of an iceberg. I always wondered why they didn’t understand how uncosy their house looked and why didn’t they do something about it. There were always thin, unlined curtains too, with no generosity to them, so that when they were drawn they were just a single, miserable sheet of fabric hanging at the window.
I now realise that they were probably very low-cost rentals. The people living there were probably as fed up about the icy strip lights and the thin, flappy curtains as I was. But they were at the sharp end, living it, and I was a child of no awareness, basking in her middle-class privilege and warm-toned incandescent light bulbs.
Yes but it's also true that quite a lot of people weren't and aren't aware that they'd feel much more relaxed and happier in something less brutal. Also it is mad that nice lighting has become expensive - the old bayonet bulbs were at least egalitarian.
I could not agree more,it’s just a lovely painting. Thank you.
Very welcome!
Oh the GLOW. It makes me feel all fuzzy inside.
Me too.
I love this, thank you for sharing i ! Perhaps you'll find a hotel room in Paris one day that's just like it.
Wouldn't that be lovely? There was a hotel I loved that had a massive room on the top floor done out in pale blue corduroy (nicer than it sounds) with a flower pattern but alas about 20 years ago it got done up by a famous designer and lost all its soul.
I love these posts. What a beauty this one is. Thank you 🤍🤍
Delighted, thank YOU!
Wallpaper!
The dream.
And just out of the frame is the comforting roundedness of a hot water bottle at exactly the right temperature for cold toes….
Absolutely.
It’s the biggest hug of a painting.
It so is.
Wonderful. Love the glow. I am in constant pursuit of the perfect type of lightbulb to achieve the same light…..so many lightbulbs labelled as a ‘warm white’ are still far too bright. A friend recommended Pooky Lights so I am going to take a look. 💡 🙂
If you scroll down a bit to the post called Getting Ready for Autumn, there's a long explanation of how to buy suitably yellow bulbs. Hope it's helpful.
Ooo thank you!
Just gorgeous! Makes me feel rested just looking at it!
It really is restful - so soothing.