Fine Art Poster
From $29
A giclée print on 200gsm matte fine art paper, using a twelve-colour process for accurate, fade-resistant colour. Supplied unframed, delivered flat or rolled.
One Who Has Nothing to Leave Making His Will - Thomas Rowlandson
Regular price
$29.00 USD
Sale price
$29.00 USD
Regular price
Archival giclée
Frames arrive ready to hang
Secure checkout
Made to order
Description
A satirical illustration by Thomas Rowlandson from 1823, titled 'One Who Has Nothing to Leave Making His Will', depicts two elderly men in a darkly humorous scene, rendered in ink and watercolour.
This satirical illustration by Thomas Rowlandson, created in 1823, presents a darkly humorous scene. Rendered in ink and watercolour, the work depicts two elderly men seated at a table. One, presumably the subject of the piece, is dictating his will, while the other, likely a scribe, diligently records his words. A small dog sits beneath the table, adding a touch of domesticity to the otherwise grim setting. The inscription above the figures reads: "I desire to be buried at the expense of the Parish, my Rags to the Regenerated Paper Company, my Body to the Worms." This morbidly comic statement sets the tone for the piece, highlighting the man's destitution and lack of worldly possessions. Rowlandson's characteristic style, with its exaggerated features and fluid lines, enhances the satirical impact of the work. Rowlandson was a prominent British artist known for his caricatures and social satires. His works often commented on the follies and absurdities of 18th- and 19th-century society, using humour to critique social norms and human behaviour. This illustration is a fine example of his ability to blend wit and social commentary in a visually engaging manner.
Return policy
Because every print is made to order, we don't offer change-of-mind returns, refunds or exchanges. If your order arrives faulty, damaged or incorrect, we'll replace it free of charge — just contact us within 48 hours of delivery. See our refunds page for full details.
Shipping
We ship worldwide, printing at the production hub nearest to your delivery address. Delivery times and costs vary by destination — you'll see the options available to you at checkout.
Manufacturing
Each print is produced to order using 12-colour giclée printing on FSC-certified archival paper. Designed in Britain and printed at your nearest production hub to reduce waste and speed up delivery.
Complete The Look
One Who Has Nothing to Leave Making His Will - Thomas Rowlandson
Regular price
From $29.00 USD
Sale price
From $29.00 USD
Regular price
Fine Art Poster / A4 (21x29.7 cm) / -
Artist Biography
Thomas Rowlandson
Rowlandson inherited seven thousand pounds from his aunt and gambled it away. He was known to sit at gaming tables for thirty-six hours at a stretch. The loss is the reason he produced over ten thousand drawings and prints in his lifetime: the volume had more to do with debts than with artistic ambition.
He trained at the Royal Academy Schools in London and may have spent time in Paris, though the often-quoted two years at a Parisian academy has been narrowed by recent scholarship to a few weeks at most. His technique was fast, fluent, and populated by figures who bulge, lurch, stumble and grope their way through Georgian England. The line is always in motion. Fat men eat. Thin women flirt. Horses rear. Coaches overturn. The world in a Rowlandson drawing is always on the verge of falling over.
He drew for the satirical press, illustrated books (including the Dr Syntax series, which sold well enough to keep him solvent for several years), and produced erotica for a private clientele that was never published in his lifetime. Unlike James Gillray, whose satire was ferocious and politically targeted, Rowlandson's humour was broader and warmer. He drew human beings as comic animals: vain, greedy, amorous and fundamentally absurd.
His subjects included Vauxhall Gardens, the races at Brighton, country fairs, and the particular chaos of London streets. He drew the city as a place where everyone is either trying to sell something, steal something, or seduce someone, often simultaneously. He died in 1827, aged seventy, having drawn everything he saw and gambled most of what he earned.
He trained at the Royal Academy Schools in London and may have spent time in Paris, though the often-quoted two years at a Parisian academy has been narrowed by recent scholarship to a few weeks at most. His technique was fast, fluent, and populated by figures who bulge, lurch, stumble and grope their way through Georgian England. The line is always in motion. Fat men eat. Thin women flirt. Horses rear. Coaches overturn. The world in a Rowlandson drawing is always on the verge of falling over.
He drew for the satirical press, illustrated books (including the Dr Syntax series, which sold well enough to keep him solvent for several years), and produced erotica for a private clientele that was never published in his lifetime. Unlike James Gillray, whose satire was ferocious and politically targeted, Rowlandson's humour was broader and warmer. He drew human beings as comic animals: vain, greedy, amorous and fundamentally absurd.
His subjects included Vauxhall Gardens, the races at Brighton, country fairs, and the particular chaos of London streets. He drew the city as a place where everyone is either trying to sell something, steal something, or seduce someone, often simultaneously. He died in 1827, aged seventy, having drawn everything he saw and gambled most of what he earned.
Our Features
Designed for Lasting Impact
Specific Features
Every Solis piece is made to order with archival, gallery-quality materials built to last.
- Museum-grade giclée printing for rich, fade-resistant colour
- Archival matte fine-art paper, FSC-certified
- Multiple sizes and framing options available
- Frames in black, natural wood, dark wood or white
- Framed prints arrive ready to hang
Care & Cleaning
To keep your artwork looking its best:
- Dust gently with a soft, dry cloth
- Avoid prolonged direct sunlight
- Never use liquid cleaners on the print or canvas surface
- Keep in a dry, room-temperature space
- Handle prints with clean, dry hands
Materials & Sizing
Museum-grade giclée on FSC-certified archival matte paper, with framed and canvas options.
- Paper sizes: A4, A3, A2, A1, A0 and B2 (50×70 cm)
- Canvas: XS (20×30 cm) to Large (60×90 cm)
- Frames: black, natural wood, dark wood or white
Made to order
Choose your finish
Every piece is printed to order. These are the five finishes, and what makes each one different.
Fine Art Framed
From $89
The same fine art print in a solid wood frame with UV-protective acrylic glaze and rigid backing. Five frame colours. Arrives ready to hang.
Why Choose Us ?
Damage-free delivery guarantee
Fast Shipping
Museum-Quality Materials
Artist Biography
Thomas Rowlandson
Rowlandson inherited seven thousand pounds from his aunt and gambled it away. He was known to sit at gaming tables for thirty-six hours at a stretch. The loss is the reason he produced over ten thousand drawings and prints in his lifetime: the volume had more to do with debts than with artistic ambition.
He trained at the Royal Academy Schools in London and may have spent time in Paris, though the often-quoted two years at a Parisian academy has been narrowed by recent scholarship to a few weeks at most. His technique was fast, fluent, and populated by figures who bulge, lurch, stumble and grope their way through Georgian England. The line is always in motion. Fat men eat. Thin women flirt. Horses rear. Coaches overturn. The world in a Rowlandson drawing is always on the verge of falling over.
He drew for the satirical press, illustrated books (including the Dr Syntax series, which sold well enough to keep him solvent for several years), and produced erotica for a private clientele that was never published in his lifetime. Unlike James Gillray, whose satire was ferocious and politically targeted, Rowlandson's humour was broader and warmer. He drew human beings as comic animals: vain, greedy, amorous and fundamentally absurd.
His subjects included Vauxhall Gardens, the races at Brighton, country fairs, and the particular chaos of London streets. He drew the city as a place where everyone is either trying to sell something, steal something, or seduce someone, often simultaneously. He died in 1827, aged seventy, having drawn everything he saw and gambled most of what he earned.
He trained at the Royal Academy Schools in London and may have spent time in Paris, though the often-quoted two years at a Parisian academy has been narrowed by recent scholarship to a few weeks at most. His technique was fast, fluent, and populated by figures who bulge, lurch, stumble and grope their way through Georgian England. The line is always in motion. Fat men eat. Thin women flirt. Horses rear. Coaches overturn. The world in a Rowlandson drawing is always on the verge of falling over.
He drew for the satirical press, illustrated books (including the Dr Syntax series, which sold well enough to keep him solvent for several years), and produced erotica for a private clientele that was never published in his lifetime. Unlike James Gillray, whose satire was ferocious and politically targeted, Rowlandson's humour was broader and warmer. He drew human beings as comic animals: vain, greedy, amorous and fundamentally absurd.
His subjects included Vauxhall Gardens, the races at Brighton, country fairs, and the particular chaos of London streets. He drew the city as a place where everyone is either trying to sell something, steal something, or seduce someone, often simultaneously. He died in 1827, aged seventy, having drawn everything he saw and gambled most of what he earned.
You May Also Like