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      <image:title>Blog - THE ROAD TO SOMEWHERE:                JACK VETTRIANO CAN’T PAINT! - I first discovered Jack Vettriano’s paintings, not hanging in a gallery, but on the walls of my Gran’s little Clydebank council house. Stylish and house-proud, she curated prints of Mad Dogs and Dance Me To The End of Love and framed cutouts from calendars. Little film cells capturing Hollywood noir, ballroom glitz, and strangers on the beach, all done up to the nines — showcased between family photos, wedding snaps, and awkward baby me.</image:title>
      <image:caption>Like many homes of the late 90s/early 2000s, Vettriano’s paintings became a staple, bridging a gap between classes and tastes, old and young, the artistic and the cinematic. Here in the kitchen of a flat-roofed house, a calendar hung like the Bayeux Tapestry; there, The Singing Butler in the background of a Fratellis music video; Vettriano originals even coveted by celebrities such as Jack Nicholson, Robbie Coltrane, and Fergie.</image:caption>
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      <image:title>Blog - THE ROAD TO SOMEWHERE:                JACK VETTRIANO CAN’T PAINT! - Make it stand out</image:title>
      <image:caption>Dr Connolly, I Presume? Hootenanny Mural, Glasgow. Jack Vettriano + Art Pistol Projects and Rogue-one, 2017.</image:caption>
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