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Who would want to approach (let alone consume) this bulbous, grotesque man with a courgette for a nose and garlic in his earlobe? Then I thought again: Italians love vegetables! And fruit for that matter. One of the greatest things about walking through Rome is the delicious watermelon sold on the streets or the wonders of sitting down to a pasta dish tossed with more veg than a stir-fry.
After this I got to thinking: is this man with peachy cheeks and cherry lips truly hideous? The golden straw jacket after a while becomes almost regal while the plaited eyebrow is unmatched by any artist of the sixteenth century, and all this with an artichoke proudly protruding from his chest.
Except that it isn’t a he, and it isn’t a she either. The frame cuts off any supposed gender tag. What the painting depicts is an arrangement of crops, which look juicy and lifelike but would be dead now had they ever existed. They never existed. Summer is an oil based representation of fruit masquerading in the form of a human being.
Actually it isn’t a human being either. It bears the title Summer which may be a popular girl's name in present day California but which wasn’t in high-Renaissance Milan. To give the painting added mystery it falls on a black background which leaves the viewer unknowing as to whether it is a symmetrical portrait or a table arrangement.
It certainly has the appearance of a smiling man, yet up close it always looks like ripe food. I see snacks, pasta ingredients, desserts; this is a culinary masterpiece! No wonder then that this very painting is to be found at the far end of a long hallway in Paris.
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