Monday, 30 May 2011

Little Ginger Mungo. Sorry I mean Jesus.


Once again this blog was on the brink of the digital abyss and once more it is dragged back precipice to take its place among the flotsam of the internet. This picture is entitled The Virgin and Child with a Shoot of Olive by the lesser known Italian artist Andrea Previtali. His obscure status is quite easily explained; a complete lack of talent. This hasn't stopped the National Gallery displaying this atrocious spank, the sort of mundane horror that would have had Mr. Ratcliffe, an art teacher from my dim and distant path (who gave me 100% for my mock Art GCSE in case anyone who reads this tawdry bog nonsense doubts my qualifications as an art critic), standing behind making the sort of noise that would be more usually associated with a fatally constipated mule than one appreciating fine art. Rather than rubbishing the whole picture, I should in face highlight some of its finer points, because there are some.

Mary, although she has a face that compares unfavourably to a saucepan, does at least look wholly human and not like the crack addled daughter of Andrew Lansley which normally characterise representations of the ickle Virgin. Although, Mr. Previtali appears to have taken his eye of the ball when rendering Mary's left hand which is a monstrous trident-esque appendage wrapped around the ample gut of our gloriously bouffanted messiah who looks like a dull eyed moron not the saviour of mankind. However, given that his mother has a hand that appears to have been modelled on a teenage mutant ninja turtle he seems to be going okay.

Jesus is ginger so I would be betraying the brotherhood by slating him too much, but his face is really too much to bear. A giant forehead, a ridiculous haircut, funnel like ears and thighs so chubby they defy any normal adjective and quite why he is wearing some odd see through fetish gear is beyond me...... In fact, although I'm going to sound like a NuZanuPF [copyright CIF] Londonite twat, he looks a bit like Terry Gilliam's Faust (which is rather good if you can get a ticket) but that is about as complimentary as one can get. Either that or a portly middle aged, privately schooled barrister with severe gout and a crush on his wet nurse. What is that meant to be, what is Jesus wearing? If the Daily Mail saw this Melanie Phillips would demand that this picture be burnt and then force fed to a third world nation. Previtali is clearly a pervert of the highest order. Frankly he'd have been better off focusing on how to master perspective or anatomy rather than dressing Jesus in clingfilm. 

No comments:

Post a Comment

La solitudine dei numeri primi