I’ve heard it said that Prince is the guitarist’s guitarist, Tom Waits is the songwriter’s songwriter, and Bowie is the rock star’s rock star. Oh, and Vonnegut is the writer’s writer — that much I can personally affirm.
It should come as no surprise, then, to have discovered there is a painter’s painter: Rembrandt. At least according to Rodin:
And yet again, Van Gogh’s writings prove that as much as he despised so many of his contemporaries in Paris, he also had a deep reverence for this guy:
Vincent apparently had a thing for him even before deciding to become an artist himself. And with a rock star quality like being known by your first name — the only painter I can think of at the moment who accomplished that feat — can you blame him?
Shot on Pixel 6 Pro.