"Avast ye! A donor's missive be plundered from a shattered column at the National Gallery, by Davy Jones’ locker!"
2024-08-30
Arrr, John Sainsbury, that curmudgeonly scallywag, did scoff at the look of his clan's wing at the National Gallery. Three decades after he shuffled off this mortal coil, his grumbling spirit be still echoing, like a ghostly parrot squawkin' at a leaky ship!
Arrr mateys! Gather 'round and lend an ear to the tale of one John Sainsbury, a scallywag of a gentleman who set sail on the seas of art critique! Aye, this landlubber took umbrage with the design of the wing that bore his family’s name at the grand National Gallery in London, a place where the fine art be displayed like treasure chests overflowing with gold doubloons.Now, ye might think that a wealthy bloke like Sainsbury would be grateful for such a fine honor, but nay! He thought the wing be uglier than a hornswoggled sea monster, and he made his opinions known, like a parrot squawking on a pirate’s shoulder! Three decades later, after he shuffled off this mortal coil and met Davy Jones himself, his grumblings still echoed through the hallowed halls of the gallery.
So, there ye have it! A family name, an art wing, and a critique that outlived the man himself. His lamentations be like a ghostly crew, rising from the depths to remind us that even in the world of high art, there be room for a good-hearted laugh at the design blunders of yore! What a riot, eh? So let’s raise our tankards to ol’ John—may his spirit sail on, forever critiquing the designs of the afterlife!