Leonardo da Vinci picture of last supper painting

Leonardo da Vinci picture of last supper paintingGustav Klimt lady with fan paintingGustav Klimt two girls with an oleander painting
Honest Sir Lionel,” said my father, as he saw the great canvas packed off to Kensington Palaces. “I should dearly have liked to shake his hairy paw. I can see him well—a fine, meaty fellow with a great gold watch-chain across his belly, who’s been decently employed boiling soap or smelting copper all his with no time to read Clive Bell. In every age it has been men like him who kept painting alive.”
I tried to explain that Lionel Sterne was the youthful and elegant millionaire who for ten years had been a leader of aesthetic “Nonsense!” said my father. “Fellows like that collect disjointed Negresses by Gauguin. Only Philistines like my work and, by God, I only like Philistines.”
There was also another, rather less reputable side to my father’s business. He received a regular yearly retaining fee from Goodchild and Godley, the Duke Street dealers, for what was called “restoration.” This sum was a very important part of his income; without it the comfortable little dinners, the trips abroad, the cabs to and fro between St. John’s Wood and the Athenaeum, the faithful, predatory Jellabys, the orchid in his buttonhole—all the substantial comforts and refinements which endeared the world and provided him with his