A good painting to me has always been like a friend.  

It keeps me company, comforts and inspires.

~ Hedy Lemarr

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Hals' Laughing Cavalier

After quickly showering and removing all traces of any alcohol from my mum’s room (heaven forbid the consumption of any inebriating beverages in student accommodation), I returned home to my wifey just in time for tea and breakfast.  Feeling invigorated by my “early” morning walk, I decided to poach a couple of eggs to eat with my usual butter-on-toast.  I don’t know what it is about poached eggs.  I don’t even like eggs that much normally, unless they’re either scrambled with an obscene amount of butter, or sandwiched inside a double sausage and egg McMuffin. Poached eggs, however, are something else, not to mention far healthier than the other two options. 

I just love them. 

But enough about eggs.

Mandi and I decide it’s high time for a culturally enriching experience, and so decide to have a look around one of London's lesser known galleries. The Wallace Collection is a hidden gem located on Manchester square, ‘a family collection, a national museum, an international treasure house.’  The collection, which has been assembled by a single family over five generations, is pretty astounding.  The gallery, which is set in a beautiful stately home, houses an extensive collection of European and Oriental armoury dating back to the fifteenth century, as well as some of the greatest works of European art, including Hals’ The Laughing Cavalier, Canaletto’s Venetian scenes and Filippo della Valle's charming Cupid and Psyche.

Cupido e Psiche

Filippo della Valle (1732)

What Psyche felt, and Love, when their full lips

First touch'd; what amorous, and fondling nips
They gave each other's cheeks; with all their sighs,
And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes.

(~Keats)

L'Amour prêt à lancer un trait
(Love Triumphant)

Qui que tu sois, voici ton maître;
Il l'est, le fut, ou le doit être.
Whoever you are, this is your master;
He is it, or was, or must be it.

(~Voltaire)

Unfortunately, the East galleries are undergoing refurbishment, and so the great Dutch pieces by Rembrandt and… and, erm, all those other Dutch artists won’t be on show until Easter time.  But there is still a fantastic collection including works by Fragonard, Boucher and Watteau. I, of course, am rather partial to a good piece of eighteen century French art and so find myself in oil-on-canvas-heaven.  No, seriously, although I am no art connoisseur, I can at least appreciate that this collection of masterpieces is magnificent (and that’s not a word I use often or lightly).  The paintings and sculptures are beautiful, and the restaurant, located in the courtyard, is a wonderful place to sit down, whether you fancy some tea and cake, or a full a la carte meal (note that smooth link between the art and the food). 

I’m pretty sure Mandi and I are defying the social conventions that such establishments expect their customers to adhere to, as she orders hot water I unpack my laptop, but we’re used to those disapproving looks people tend to throw in our direction.  The selection of cakes looks so appealing that it takes Mandi a good ten minutes to finally settle on the chocolate and banana cake, bravely ignoring the waiter’s well-informed advice that she really ought to try the evidently popular carrot cake.  She doesn’t like banana, but justifies her choice by noting that the cake was still intact and someone would have to order the first slice at some point: it might as well be her.  Thankfully, she enjoys the cake and even finds the layers of banana cream delicious (‘it’s so good I’m going to draw a picture of it’, see below).  Further still, she doesn’t really like cream, so I’m straight in there.  

Mandi's sketch for the Wallace Collection Restaurant (amandaflynn.co.uk)

So, if you’re bored of the National Gallery (so mainstream!) and you want to spend a while gazing at some Gainsborough or Canaletto or Reynolds, this is the place to be.  There’s also a great deal of amusement to be had eavesdropping on conversations.  As I was typing, the man next to me was delivering a monologue on the Dickensian aspects of Coronation Street over a slice of that highly-recommended carrot cake to a very disinterested audience (his wife, I presume).  She, meanwhile, attempted to steer the conversation towards a discussion on the benefits of reading the Harry Potter and Twilight books before watching the films, and that all-important question: were Rachel and Ross really meant to be?

Francesca de Rimini, Ary Scheffer (1835)
And she to me: "There is no greater sorrow
Than to be mindful of the happy time
In misery, and that thy Teacher knows."

(~Dante, Inferno V)

 On our way home, Mandi and I decided to grab some dinner from Tesco, and emerged from the reduced items aisle proudly clutching two giant chicken kievs, a pair of peppered grill steaks and, best of all, a bag containing 1.49kg of curry.  We now know that 1.49kg of food is too much for a pair of petite girls to munch their way through, but what a feast!

L'escarpolette ('The Swing')
Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1767)

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