International studio (15.1901/1902(1902))

American Studio Talk

the admiration I felt for it then is increased by a
second view. It was not eligible for the prizes;
otherwise it must surely have been selected, for it
is a work of much more than average import, both
in its execution and in the evidence behind it of
imagination.

Fronting this picture, at the opposite end of the
main gallery, is Edwin E. Abbey’s Penance of
Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester, in which there is
less of imagination than of a clear and forcible
realization of Shakespeare’s meaning, — a work
whose most prominent quality is intellectuality.
The scene, taken from the second part of “ Henry
VI.,” represents Eleanor as the victim of the
queen’s jealousy, condemned to walk the streets
barefoot, wrapped in a sheet, and holding a candle.
Her husband, with two attendants, has taken his
stand to see her pass, and she turns from the howls
and threatenings of the rabble to look at him. Her
glance is one of pitiful surrender, his of mute, help-
less anguish. The white drapery of the central
figure is seen against the crimson robes of her
guard, while the little group at her side is a mass
of black and purple, the latter relieved with gold
embroidery; and the rabble represent a medley of
russet tones, enlivened by the steel cuirasses of the
soldiers. The arrangement offers some fine pas-
sages of color and texture painting, and the drawing
throughout is admirable. Granted the employment
of a subject that relies on literary support for its
comprehension, the picture is a most dignified
presentment of a scene of intense significance.
So, also, in a markedly different way, is Winslow
Homer’s High Cliff, — one of his subjects of the
Maine coast. Here the inspiration is direct from
nature, and responded to with that fulness of feel-
ing and splendid resourcefulness of method that
are characteristic of this painter, the most forcible
personality in American art to-day. The present
picture is about equally divided between rocks and
water, which gives the former the appearance of
undue importance, — at least in the estimation of
those who value Homer’s incomparable rendering
of the ocean ; so the canvas, painted as far back as
1894, does not rank with the best of the series.

The two Indian subjects, Silence Broken and
The Sculptor and the King, painted many years ago,
represent George de Forest Brush, and another
often seen at other exhibitions is Robert Blum’s
Flower Market, Tokio, the last named exceedingly
clever in its arrangement of brilliant colors, but
lacking the blitheness that visitors associate with
Japanese life. A young Alleghany student, George
xlii

Louis Carspecken, makes his first appearance in
public on this occasion with two portraits, one of
them reproduced on an accompanying page. He
shows a remarkable comprehension of construction
and characterization for one, I believe, still in his
teens, and his method is broad and decisive. He
is a painter whose career will be watched with great
interest. Another newcomer, so far as exhibitions
are concerned, is David T. A. Karfunkle of New
York, who sends a very racy sketch, Head of Hol-
landish Woman, a vigorous bit of character study,
and a Family Portrait, which has very distinctive
qualities. There are many figures in the group,
the most prominent being a child in reddish brown
dress and bright yellow straw hat, who is shown in
full light, while the other figures appear in varying
planes of shadow. The picture is too mannered to
be exactly pleasant, but it reveals a very conscien-
tious effort to solve an interesting problem of chi-
aroscuro. With the vigorous contributions of these
younger men may be compared William M. Chase’s
The Japanese Print, a lady, wrapped in a kimona,
lying back in a chair gazing listlessly at a print. It
has the assurance of knowledge, but is a tame pro-
duction, showing little conviction or raison d'etre.
Thomas Eakins sends a big portrait of the late
Professor Henry A. Rowland., of Johns Hopkins
University, painted in his most prosaic style, direct
and literal, with scarce a particle of suggestion, and
without the sobriety of color that distinguishes his
strongest work. The Profile, by Frank W. Benson,
of a young lady in a white organdie gown, sitting
in a blue-gray wooden chair before a dull yellow
screen, has many charming qualities, among them
a refined color scheme and very gracious senti-
ment, though the merciless accentuation of the
leanness of the neck makes a very harsh note in an
ensemble otherwise tender. Robert Henri adds one
more to his series of full-length studies of ladies in
Portrait of a Young Woman, who with one hand
gathers up the flare of a black skirt, that allows the
wind of her figure to be felt, as she turns slightly
round to look out of the picture. The canvas is a
low-toned one of drab, gray, and black, extremely
suave and dignified, though the face seems to make
too insistent a spot, not being balanced by any sec-
ondary accents. Still, the picture, but for this
partial interruption of the unified impression, is quite
fascinating in its quiet colorfulness, well-expressed
atmosphere, and gentle gravity. Edward H. Pott-
hast will scarcely add to his reputation by the
smooth sentimentality of A Wood Nymph; nor
will Elliott Daingerfield by The Holy Family. The