I love how Vuillard’s work always seems to be done with the utmost haste and willful disillusionment, as if he has zero fucks left to give. But the very gentle treatment of the subject belies the lack of fucks theory and, instead, gives us insight into the way he cared for his subjects and the world around him even as he treated it with ineffectual disdain and a kind of ADHD slapdashery.