Johannes Vermeer

Johannes Vermeer, the Dutch master of light and quiet domesticity, painted scenes so serene you'd think he was trying to calm a particularly rowdy synagogue kiddush. His knack for capturing everyday life in Delft, from ladies reading letters to girls with pearl earrings, made him a true visionary. Alas, his subjects were almost exclusively gentile, which, you know, is fine. Just not very us.

While his paintings fetch prices that could fund a small nation (or at least a very fancy bar mitzvah), Vermeer himself wasn't exactly a prolific producer, completing only about 35 known works. This scarcity, combined with his unparalleled skill, only adds to his mystique. The man was a perfectionist, which, one could argue, is a very Jewish trait, but we can't give points for hypothetical neuroses.

Despite the undeniable beauty of his oeuvre, there's no evidence of any Jewish connections, not even a distant cousin who once sold herring. His conversion to Catholicism upon marriage firmly plants him in the "not us" camp, even if his meticulous brushwork brings a certain universal nachas. We'll just have to kvell over the sheer artistry, not the heritage.