Painting of the Day: Matthew Prior, c. 1700

Matthew Prior
Sir Godfrey Kneller, 1700
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Well, well, here’s a fella who looks like he’s trouble. He also looks like he’d benefit from a good sandwich. Mmmm…sandwich. But, I digress. Who is this impish bloke?

He’s Matthew Prior (1664-1721). You’ve heard the name, I’m sure. Or, not.  I don't know what you have heard and haven't.  Prior was a celebrated poet, diplomat and politician, as well as a fellow of St. John’s College Cambridge. Most likely, you know his name from reading his translations from Horace and Ovid, or, perhaps you’re familiar with his poetry. Prior is also known to museum-types like me for his collection of important paintings and prints.

A chum of King William and Queen Mary, Prior was considered a superb diplomat. He’s buried in Poet’s Corner in Westminster Abbey. I remember seeing his monument which features a rather startlingly descriptive inscription:

"Matthew Prior Esq. A fever, gradually creeping up on him, as he meditated upon the history of his times, broke together the thread of his life and of his labours on Sept.18th A.D.1721 in the 57th year of his age.”

This painting was executed in 1700 by Sir Godfrey Kneller (1646-1723) during a time when portraits of literary types were quite popular.

The painter, Sir Godfrey, was born in Germany where he studied mathematics and military fortification (yawn), and, then, at some point, for some unknown reason, he was apprenticed to Rembrandt and began to travel to Rome and Venice. By 1676, Kneller secured Royal patronage to King William III, and, of course, settled in England. He was knighted in 1692 and was considered one of the most fashionable of portrait painters. He was especially known for his series of portraits of ladies at the Royal Court which is known now as “The Hampton Court Beauties” (which for some reason reminds me of Kathie Lee Gifford who, early in her career was a Hee-Haw Honey). He’s also the artist of the “Kit-cat Portraits” of members of the famed “Kit-cat Club.” Lest you think that’s more portraits of “beauties,” I should tell you that they’re gents—none of whom are particularly attractive, sadly. The Kit-cat Club was a group of Eighteenth Century Whigs who gathered at Christopher Catling’s Inn and feasted on the innkeeper’s famous mutton pies which he had playfully called “Kit-Cats.”

And, now, you can say that you read about mutton pies today. I’ll bet it’s the only time.

Mr. Punch in the Arts: “Sonnet to Punch,” circa 1796

One of Bryan Clarke's
exquisite hand-made
Mr. Punch figures based on
the designs of Piccini as
illustrated by
George Cruikshank.

Sonnet to Punch
Triumphant Punch! with joy I follow thee
   Thro’ the glad progress of thy wanton course;
   Where life is painted with such truth and force,
It’s equal on our stage we never see.
Whether thou kill’st thy wife with jolly glee,
   Hurl’st thy sweet babe away without remorse,
   Mount’st, and art quickly thrown from thy horse,
Or dance with “pretty Poll,” so fair and free;
   Having first slain with just disdain her sire,
   Deaf to music of thy sheep-bell lyre:
Who loves not music, is not fit to live!
   Then, when the hangman comes, who can refuse
   To laugh, when thou his head into the noose
Hast nimbly thrust, while he gets no reprieve?
             Who feigns to grieve
Though goest unpunish’d in the fiend’s despite,
And slay’st him too, is but a hypocrite.
             ‘Tis such a delight
To see thee cudgel his black carcase antique,
For very rapture I am almost frantic.


Scholars of literature, theatre and puppetry have long debated the author of this sonnet which appeared for the first time circa 1796. Though some disagree, it is believed to have been written—in the Italian style—by Lord Byron (George Gordon Byron). Regardless of the author, it’s a very clever poem and one that neatly summarizes the character of our dear Mr. Punch.

Painting of the Day: Portrait of Henry Kirke White, 1805

Henry Kirke White
Unknown Artist
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Through the late Eighteenth Century, watercolor artists worked primarily on topographic scenes on vellum, and portraits on ivory. These media proved to be expensive and were the stuff of the upper classes. However, by the Nineteenth Century, artists began perfecting watercolor techniques and found that the medium was well-suited to paper and card. The use of less expensive materials allowed for a broader group of patrons to commission and collect watercolor paintings.

A distinctive style of watercolor portraiture developed, often echoing the growing trend of portraits in profile. However, artists had not accounted for the instability of paper. Whereas earlier miniature watercolors on vellum or ivory retained their color, those on paper tended to yellow and/or deteriorate with time. We can see that with this example from 1805. The background of the portrait was never intended to have that ochre color, and was originally a bright, crisp white. This also effects the pigmentation of the colors which, when new, were quite vivid and bright.

The portrait miniature depicts Henry Kirke White (1785-1806) in profile. The trend of profile portraits began in the late 1770s when archaeological discoveries of Roman sites at Herculaneum and Pompeii elicited a new taste for Neo-classicism. Furthermore, Johann Kaspar Lavater published a celebrated tome, “Essays on Physiognomy” wherein he proposed that one could divine a person’s character by concentrating on his or her main profile features.

Henry Kirke White was a promising English poet whose death at an early age (in 1806, a year after the portrait was painted) was thought to have deprived the world of a great talent.

The artist is unknown.

Painting of the Day: Portrait of Henry Kirke White, 1805

Henry Kirke White
Unknown Artist
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Through the late Eighteenth Century, watercolor artists worked primarily on topographic scenes on vellum, and portraits on ivory. These media proved to be expensive and were the stuff of the upper classes. However, by the Nineteenth Century, artists began perfecting watercolor techniques and found that the medium was well-suited to paper and card. The use of less expensive materials allowed for a broader group of patrons to commission and collect watercolor paintings.

A distinctive style of watercolor portraiture developed, often echoing the growing trend of portraits in profile. However, artists had not accounted for the instability of paper. Whereas earlier miniature watercolors on vellum or ivory retained their color, those on paper tended to yellow and/or deteriorate with time. We can see that with this example from 1805. The background of the portrait was never intended to have that ochre color, and was originally a bright, crisp white. This also effects the pigmentation of the colors which, when new, were quite vivid and bright.

The portrait miniature depicts Henry Kirke White (1785-1806) in profile. The trend of profile portraits began in the late 1770s when archaeological discoveries of Roman sites at Herculaneum and Pompeii elicited a new taste for Neo-classicism. Furthermore, Johann Kaspar Lavater published a celebrated tome, “Essays on Physiognomy” wherein he proposed that one could divine a person’s character by concentrating on his or her main profile features.

Henry Kirke White was a promising English poet whose death at an early age (in 1806, a year after the portrait was painted) was thought to have deprived the world of a great talent.

The artist is unknown.

Painting of the Day: Matthew Prior, c. 1700

Matthew Prior
Sir Godfrey Kneller, 1700
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Well, well, here’s a fella who looks like he’s trouble. He also looks like he’d benefit from a good sandwich. Mmmm…sandwich. But, I digress. Who is this impish bloke?

He’s Matthew Prior (1664-1721). You’ve heard the name, I’m sure. Prior was a celebrated poet, diplomat and politician, as well as a fellow of St. John’s College Cambridge. Most likely, you know his name from reading his translations from Horace and Ovid, or, perhaps you’re familiar with his poetry. Prior is also known to museum-types like me for his collection of important paintings and prints.

A chum of King William and Queen Mary, Prior was considered a superb diplomat. He’s buried in Poet’s Corner in Westminster Abbey. I remember seeing his monument which features a rather startlingly descriptive inscription:

"Matthew Prior Esq. A fever, gradually creeping up on him, as he meditated upon the history of his times, broke together the thread of his life and of his labours on Sept.18th A.D.1721 in the 57th year of his age.”

This painting was executed in 1700 by Sir Godfrey Kneller (1646-1723) during a time when portraits of literary types were quite popular.

The painter, Sir Godfrey, was born in Germany where he studied mathematics and military fortification (yawn), and, then, at some point, for some unknown reason, he was apprenticed to Rembrandt and began to travel to Rome and Venice. By 1676, Kneller secured Royal patronage to King William III, and, of course, settled in England. He was knighted in 1692 and was considered one of the most fashionable of portrait painters. He was especially known for his series of portraits of ladies at the Royal Court which is known now as “The Hampton Court Beauties” (which for some reason reminds me of Kathie Lee Gifford who, early in her career was a Hee-Haw Honey). He’s also the artist of the “Kit-cat Portraits” of members of the famed “Kit-cat Club.” Lest you think that’s more portraits of “beauties,” I should tell you that they’re gents—none of whom are particularly attractive, sadly. The Kit-cat Club was a group of Eighteenth Century Whigs who gathered at Christopher Catling’s Inn and feasted on the innkeeper’s famous mutton pies which he had playfully called “Kit-Cats.”

And, now, you can say that you read about mutton pies today. I’ll bet it’s the only time.

Painting of the Day: The Rose; A Group of Women and a Child, 1832

The Rose
Edmond Thomas Parris, 1832
The Victoria & Albert Museum

Painted in England in 1832 by Edmond Thomas Parris, this delicate genre painting was just the sort of fashionable, gentle scene which was highly regarded at the time. This canvas is typical of Parris's so-called “fancy” portraits. These he created with the intention of having them reproduced in the form of a colored lithograph as an illustration to a verse.


This painting—“The Rose”--was published as “The Rose of the Boudoir,” with the short, anonymous, poem:

The Rose she loves the Mother blesses
The Rose she to her bosom presses
A fairer, sweeter, happier thing
Than that which shines the Queen of Spring.

Mr. Punch in the Arts: “Sonnet to Punch,” circa 1796

One of Bryan Clarke's
exquisite hand-made
Mr. Punch figures based on
the designs of Piccini as
illustrated by
George Cruikshank.

Sonnet to Punch

Triumphant Punch! with joy I follow thee
   Thro’ the glad progress of thy wanton course;
   Where life is painted with such truth and force,
It’s equal on our stage we never see.
Whether thou kill’st thy wife with jolly glee,
   Hurl’st thy sweet babe away without remorse,
   Mount’st, and art quickly thrown from thy horse,
Or dance with “pretty Poll,” so fair and free;
   Having first slain with just disdain her sire,
   Deaf to music of thy sheep-bell lyre:
Who loves not music, is not fit to live!
   Then, when the hangman comes, who can refuse
   To laugh, when thou his head into the noose
Hast nimbly thrust, while he gets no reprieve?
             Who feigns to grieve
Though goest unpunish’d in the fiend’s despite,
And slay’st him too, is but a hypocrite.
             ‘Tis such a delight
To see thee cudgel his black carcase antique,
For very rapture I am almost frantic.


Scholars of literature, theatre and puppetry have long debated the author of this sonnet which appeared for the first time circa 1796. Though some disagree, it is believed to have been written—in the Italian style—by Lord Byron (George Gordon Byron). Regardless of the author, it’s a very clever poem and one that neatly summarizes the character of our dear Mr. Punch.

Recommended Reading: The Poetry of Jason Roush

Cover courtesy of Jason Roush

Superbly crafted with impeccable phrasing and clear imagery, Jason Roush’s poetry proves that he is one of the best new poets in his field. His three books of poetry, Crosstown, After Hours and Breezeway show a mastery of his art. Both personal and far-reaching, these works are moving and evocative.


John Skoyles, the author of The Situation, had this to say of Crosstown:

Jason Roush has a brilliant command of the line and an almost pointillist way of combining exact, exquisite phrases into sweeping vistas. At once tender and humane, the poems in Crosstown display a rare intelligence and character. The collection is not only well-written, but well-told—the voice is sly and warm, and the whole book is good company.

And, Richard McCann, author of Mother of Sorrows, says the following of Breezeway:

In these spare and lyrical poems, Jason Roush writes, like the great Greek poet Constantine Cavafy, about the ordinary, passing moments of our lives, which are ‘suspended / over the swift water of years // that cannot last or happen again.’ These poems—at once so wry and conversational, so ardent and precise and unafraid of feeling—remind us in their beauty that we are all living in the ‘breezeway of time,’ in that long, open passage between all that seems lost and all that still remains.

I heartily recommend these sparkling collections of poetry. Many thanks to Jason for taking us one step further into our own Belle Époque.