E. W. Thomson

Back in 1817 London, a painter known only by initials slipped into a print shop, hired an actor friend to pose in a ruffled shirt, and called the sheet “Mr Pearman as Orlando.” The joke’s in the mismatch: Orlando’s a lovesick Shakespearean hero, but Pearman’s the bluff-looking guy next door. The print is tiny—just a calling-card size—so you’ll miss it if you blink. Hunt it down by the date stamp; it’s the cheapest ticket to early 19th-century theater without leaving the gallery.