Three cheers for Brian Sewell who, in the Evening Standard
of 20 May 2005, used the above expression to put a lid on the obsequious
Sir Joshua Reynolds. In the first years of the 20th century, the
collapsed market in Reynolds's vanities revived with the insatiable
(but temporary) demand of American collectors for passable, assumable
ancestors from Britain. The Reynolds 'factory' had reached a zenith
in delivering swathes of painted finery, curtains, vases, tiny dogs
that relieved themselves backstage (presumably) and any other props
that could be let in. But, there are always exceptions to prove
the rule and Reynolds's erstwhile subject contact from Italy, Viscount
Augustus Keppel, was acceptable and masterly; Keppel is even painted
on the trot to greater things, as was his wont. Nowadays, in the
realm of later paparazzi, we can see through the aura of Joshua
in a way that his distinguished contemporaries could not achieve
themselves.