Cheers to François Brunery and his Penchant for Painting Portraits of Pissed Priests

Sometimes, art is about lofty ideals and profound reflections on the human condition. And sometimes, it’s about priests having one too many glasses of Burgundy. François Brunery, a 19th-century French-Italian painter, clearly knew which side of the easel he wanted to be on. His hilarious depictions of clergymen in states of merry mischief—wine in hand, cheeks flushed, and discipline out the window—are a toast to the lighter side of life and faith.

Who Was François Brunery?

François Brunery (1849–1926) was a man who didn’t take everything too seriously—especially not his art. Born in Turin, Italy, and trained in Paris, Brunery spent his early years painting historical and religious scenes with the seriousness expected of any ambitious artist of the time. But somewhere along the way, he must have realised that poking a little fun at the world—particularly the buttoned-up clergy—was far more entertaining.

Soon, he made his name painting priests caught in moments that would make their bishops blush. Whether they were sneaking a second dessert or overindulging in their cellar’s finest, Brunery’s clergy were anything but paragons of piety.

What’s So Funny About Brunery's Drunk Priests?

Brunery’s paintings are a masterclass in comic storytelling. The scene is always impeccably detailed: a lavishly decorated dining room, a table groaning under the weight of wine bottles and decadent food, and a priest or two (or three) caught mid-guffaw. One might be leaning precariously in his chair, another gesturing dramatically with his glass, and a third looking suspiciously like he’s about to burst into song.

Take A Convivial Toast, for example. The priest in this painting raises his goblet high, his nose a charming shade of pink, as if proclaiming himself king of the wine cellar. Or The Connoisseur, where a cleric examines a bottle of vintage red with the seriousness of a scientist—before inevitably diving in for a taste.

Brunery didn’t just paint priests; he painted stories. And each one seems to invite the viewer to imagine the hours leading up to—and the consequences following—the moment captured on canvas.

A Gentle Ribbing or Scandalous Satire?

In Brunery’s time, anticlerical art was all the rage, particularly in France, where tensions between the Church and the secular state were bubbling over. But Brunery’s work feels less like biting satire and more like a playful nudge in the ribs. His priests aren’t corrupt or malicious—they’re human. They enjoy the same indulgences as the rest of us (perhaps just a little too much).

Even the Church seemed to take it all in good humour. Brunery’s works were immensely popular during his lifetime, with collectors snapping them up for their homes. After all, who wouldn’t want a painting of a tipsy priest to liven up their parlour?

Why We Still Love Brunery

François Brunery’s paintings remind us that even the most dignified among us have their moments of indulgence and hilarity. In a world often weighed down by seriousness, his tipsy priests are a reminder to laugh, enjoy life, and maybe have that second glass of wine.

So, next time you raise a toast, think of François Brunery and his merry band of clergymen. And maybe, just maybe, give yourself permission to lean back, laugh, and savour the joy in life’s little excesses—just like the priests would. Cheers!

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