What tales can be uncovered from the dusty shelves where one isn’t allowed to look?
Written by Asha Geoghegan
Recently, DUiN’s best reporters infiltrated a local storehouse owned by the National Gallery of Art to find some discarded works from the early twentieth century, risking both life and limb – only the best for our readers.
We discovered several portraits, along with a journal emanating ominous energy. Most of its pages are yellowed and distorted by time, and are mostly financial records of the paintings being handed over to different art collectors over the years. The art collector who seemed to have held onto these paintings the most was the avid antiquarian William Hensworth, an irrelevant but egotistical collector who lived from 1931-1978. He died under mysterious circumstances shortly after he auctioned off the paintings. He seemed truly attached to not only the works of David Augard but also the history behind them. In his journal, Hensworth wrote:
As an art collector held in high esteem across the globe, I have made it my mission to keep the Augard Paintings within my care throughout my life, believing that one day I, along with the next generation of artists, will bring Augard’s masterpieces back into the spotlight. Unfortunately, I have bills to pay. While my funds for the art collection are gone, my passion for the story of Augard’s life is very much alive. I entrust the rest of my notes to you, buyer. If you have any further questions, stop by the local Shakey’s pizza parlor, and ask for Willy.
-Duke Parks II, 1901-
Augard was commissioned by the House of Winreid, a waning group of nobles desperate to cling to any form of power left, to paint this piece of the infamous Duke Parks II. He had to rely on written record alone to recreate the details of the reclusive Duke, as he recoiled from the mere mention of portraiture while he was alive, reportedly declaring that “No artist deserves to stare at this disturbing visage of mine for hours on end. I would rather execute them, as it would be a more merciful fate.” Indeed, Duke Parks II was known to keep his vast collection of axes freshly polished and was keen on using them. However, his violent tendencies stopped when his mother, the recently widowed Duchess, threatened to ban him from the Royal Theatre. After her death, he briefly returned to his dastardly ways, before realizing he found gardening much more entertaining.
-Argyle “Argy” Smith- 1904
This piece is considered to be one of Augard’s most captivating works, a portrait of his great uncle, Argy Smith, who was swiftly approaching death. Smith had worked as one of very few blacksmiths specializing in armor, and was known for his ornate crafting of what he called “metal bosoms.” Other blacksmiths, somewhat disturbed at the title, labeled them steel vests. He was surprisingly successful while living in a peaceful English village.
Before Smith’s portrait was finished, he, unfortunately (or fortunately, if you were his inheritor), passed before the artist’s last stroke hit the canvas. To remedy this slight issue, Augard and relatives of Smith stuffed him with sawdust and propped him up haphazardly. This may explain why the blacksmith looks slightly tilted to one side in the portrait. Art critics say this characteristic makes the painting more unique, and therefore more expensive.
-Tsar Arseny Chevsky- 1894
Tsar Arseny Chevsky was an odd duck: instead of ruling with an iron fist or with a generous nature, every day he would make decisions for the people with a pair of ivory dice. He once rolled snake eyes at breakfast and refused to eat or let anyone in his cabinet eat until he had rolled it once more. When peasants begged for food, he grabbed his golden goblet and proceeded to roll for every person in need. Those who rolled higher than a 6 received a sack of gold coins. 894 peasants starved that year.
He was executed upon the revelation that he had weighted the gambling dice in his favor – the Russian governing body has always been known for fairness. After his death, it was found he had no noble blood, and his name was purged from the history books.
While Augard had friendly ties to the nobles of the Winreid House and was related to the famed blacksmith, it was a mystery as to how he became the Tsar’s sole portraitist. Many historians have pored over Russian archives but were left with endless speculation; a particularly fascinating theory included a shared love of pinstripe. One thing historians can unanimously agree upon is that the only relations between the two were cordial, and all “flirtatious forays” servants claimed to have witnessed were just the ramblings of two men “comfortable in their heterosexuality.”
(In the original writings, Hensworth misspelled the word “Heterosexuality” several times before crossing it out and making a crude doodle of a man and a woman kissing).