@narayani I love the dog on the bed one, too, but it makes me a little sad. I see it as the owner has died or gone away and the dog is mourning. I'm not usually a pessimist but something about the dog's position sends that message to me.
@narayani You are correct in your assessment. It's just that I saw the painting long before I saw anything written about it and that's what I got out of it. Here's the story of how the painting came to be
Master Bedroom (1965)
Artwork description & Analysis: In Master Bedroom, Wyeth presents the family dog, Rattler, asleep, curled up and snuggled into the pillows of a four poster bed. Wyeth's granddaughter, Victoria, said in an interview that the artist had "come home tired one evening, wanting to take a nap, only to find Rattler had got there first." She went on to quote Wyeth, "You know, dogs are the damnedest thing. They just take over the house." While the title suggests we are in the bedroom of the home's owner, it is also a sly nod to the real master of the house - the dog.
Wyeth perfectly captures the mundane nature of the scene. The simple white bedspread, seemingly worn in a few spots, covers the bed and pillows. The room is unadorned; no pictures hang on the walls, but a small bowl sits on the window sill. The walls, painted rather gesturally, suggest old, discolored plaster. Through the window, we see a side of the house and a few branches of a tree. The light - a low, afternoon light - shines through window onto the end of the bed, not disturbing the sleeping dog.
Master Bedroom (1965)
Artwork description & Analysis: In Master Bedroom, Wyeth presents the family dog, Rattler, asleep, curled up and snuggled into the pillows of a four poster bed. Wyeth's granddaughter, Victoria, said in an interview that the artist had "come home tired one evening, wanting to take a nap, only to find Rattler had got there first." She went on to quote Wyeth, "You know, dogs are the damnedest thing. They just take over the house." While the title suggests we are in the bedroom of the home's owner, it is also a sly nod to the real master of the house - the dog.
Wyeth perfectly captures the mundane nature of the scene. The simple white bedspread, seemingly worn in a few spots, covers the bed and pillows. The room is unadorned; no pictures hang on the walls, but a small bowl sits on the window sill. The walls, painted rather gesturally, suggest old, discolored plaster. Through the window, we see a side of the house and a few branches of a tree. The light - a low, afternoon light - shines through window onto the end of the bed, not disturbing the sleeping dog.