A convention was being planned for leading European artists by a handful of amateur organisers.
“On a Sunday on La Grande Jatte, perhaps”? Suggested one of them.
“No!” quipped the Thinker. “At the Moulin Rouge!”
But what would be served to the Potato Eaters then? Stacks of Wheat!? They must cater to the Old Masters’ palates. They realised it wouldn’t be easy. They hoped that the convention would be the first of a series of dinners; but feared that if it failed, it would end up being the Last Supper!
They hence called Da Vinci to crack the code,
The guest of honour would be Madonna (and child),
Van Gogh’s presence would certainly make it a starry night!
Michalengo would bring David,
Vermeer, a girl with a pearl earring.
They decided to go Dutch; and invited Rembrandt,
Monet and Renoir would certainly make a good Impression,
Picasso declined. He was going through a Blue Period in his life.
Then they debated on the theme of the convention. Classical? Romanticism? Realism…?
The discussions were endless. If you heard them, you’d Scream.
They imagined the dinner to be like the creation of Adam.
After all, the convention would be a renaissance of sorts!
©Helina Desai, 2016. All rights reserved.