In the old days

this was Britain’s Got Talent, Jeux Sans Frontiers version. I’ll have a lot to say about BGT later in a full cultural critique: it’s a genius show which Stavros Flatley must win, but at the moment my mind is in meltdown as I approach the endgame of the forthcoming tome so I must keep something in reserve, dear blog reader.
The painting is Degas. You pronounce it de-gas, as in Delap, not day-ga as in day-glo, like everyone does. This was one of the first shocks I had when I was a new bug at Art School, when it was still an art school, before it got much more snappily re-branded to the Norwich University College of the Arts and given a new Gestapo insignia (see posts passim).

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