For a long time, the famous English Pre-Raphaelite artists George Frederick Watts and Frederic Leighton were not only friends, but also neighbours. They lived on adjacent plots of a unique artists' colony built in Holland Park in the second half of the XIX century. The "brothers in art" shared the gate that connected their gardens, and every morning Leighton would call Watts to tell him about the latest news of the Royal Academy of Arts. Leighton was a member of each committee of the Royal Academy, the so-called social activist, and in 1878, at the early age of 48 he became president of the Academy. Watts wasn't that interested in the affairs of the institution, and Leighton was constantly making efforts to prevent his friend from being excluded from it.

Apart from domestic animals, Pablo Picasso always had many birds. The French photographer and sculptor Michel Sima found a little owl in Antibes and gave it to Picasso. It was brought from Antibes to Paris, and lived in the artist's kitchen, sharing a cage with canaries and doves. The owl had a wild temper and rejected everyone except for Picasso. And the artist, known for his Dove of Peace drawing, also painted owls.

When the house is under repair, the true artists paint from nature! Caillebotte submitted his painting Les raboteurs de parquet (The Floor Scrapers) to the jury of the Salon, the official exhibition of the Academy of Fine Arts in Paris. The work was rejected, but it caught the attention of Edgar Degas and Auguste Renoir, who encouraged Caillebotte to exhibit with the impressionists. The painting became one of the sensations of the Second Impressionist exhibition in 1876! And the reviews were mixed: the admirers appreciated it being "beautifully truthful and accurate", the critics deemed it "unfinished, vulgar and anti-artistic", and Émile Zola denounced this work as being "photographic" and "bourgeois." Now this painting is considered to be one of the pearls of the Musée d'Orsay collection.

Once, one of the Rubens' disciples fell onto a freshly painted canvas and damaged it, smudging the whole fragment. He asked another Rubens' disciple, the then unknown Anthony van Dyck, to redo that fragment. The next day Rubens was admiring his own (as he thought at first) painting ... And when the deception was revealed, he praised his disciple with the same admiration! Soon, van Dyck became Ruben's right-hand man and some customers were surprised at how the master's late works changed – as if the brush was sometimes held in someone else's hand! However, it is still uncertain which of Rubens' paintings were finished (or painted entirely) by van Dyck or his other disciples.

Auguste Renoir liked painting pictures but didn't like talking about them. The connoisseurs of art, who grilled the artist about the sublime even on a train, would often hear his: "Sorry, I know nothing about high art, my works are pornographic". Yet, there's a grain of joke in every joke. The same Renoir was quite serious when saying: "I loved women even before I learned to walk... I never think I have finished a nude until I think I could pinch it.”

Lucian Freud said: "I paint people, not because of what they are like, not exactly in spite of what they are like, but how they happen to be." Quite a psychological statement, while the works that cost millions may be a subject for "Freudian" analysis. Lucian Freud led a bohemian lifestyle. By the time he died in 2011, he had been married twice, acknowledged 14 children by different women and had at least 50 lovers. At the end of 80, he created a nude portrait of Kate Moss and inked a tattoo on her lower back.

At 24, Diego Velázquez was in Madrid and for a long time created only portraits. He was appointed court painter of King Philip IV almost immediately – the king established the artist near himself, arranged him a workshop in The Royal Palace to watch the master at work, conferred him court ranks and didn't allow anyone but Velázquez to portray him. This caused great jealousy among other artists, who spun intrigues against Velázquez. Once the agitated king came to the artist's workshop and stated right off the bat: "They say, you are good only at painting faces! Is it really true?" In order to calm the king down, Velázquez created a painting The Triumph of Bacchus (The Drunkards, 1628-29), which is now in the Museo del Prado.

In 2015, the Boston Museum of Fine Arts issued an apology and cancelled a program, displaying Claude Monet's painting of his wife and giving the visitors the opportunity to put on a kimono similar to the one depicted in the painting, and encouraging them to pose for photographs. Before that, the painting La Japonaise. Camille Monet in Japanese Costume was shown all over Japan where the viewers posing in a kimono was an organic part of the special program. What could go wrong in America? And yet, an innocent event caused protest actions and accusations of cultural insensibility: some of the visitors noticed there "Orientalist flirtations with the exotic".