International studio (33.1907/1908(1908))

National Academy of Design

temporary American sculpture. Are the sculptors
of the country too busy with the manufacture of
decorations to send anything to the annual ex-
hibitions which are supposed to reflect the spirit of
contemporary art or—are they not wanted ?
Of the many portraits shown none is more
refreshing, more thoroughly satisfying, than The
Portrait in Black, by Irving R. Wiles. It shows a
woman of refined, rather pensive beauty seated,
facing the spectator, with her hands folded in her
lap, in a listless, resigned manner. In pose, in its
arrangement of line and color, subtle yet very
masculine, it breathes a distinction and refinement
that is of the essence of good portraiture. It is
handled with a superb directness—the values
masterfully rendered, giving to the whole a feeling
of space and atmosphere that is sadly lacking in
much of the more pretentious work shown. In a
measure this is true of the fine contribution by
Henri, called Girl in Yellow Satin Dress, which,
by reason of its failure to convey a complete illusion
of atmosphere, falls short of being the masterly
performance that every other quality in the canvas
warrants one in demanding from this painter. It
is devoid of his usual mannerisms, his tendency to
overaccentuation in the painting of the eyes and
lips is absent and the flesh tones are rendered with
a fine sense of the contour of the flesh, with the
result that the figure gives the impression of life
far more than is common in the work of Henri.
In his canvas called Portrait, John W. Alexander
has achieved an almost flat, decorative effect which
robs it somewhat of reality and takes it out of the
realm of portraiture into the less exacting sphere of
poster art. In contrast with this is the canvas
called The Silver Dress, by Howard Gardiner
Cushing, which is one of the few memorable figure
pieces in the show. It is characterized by a refine-
ment of color and a simplicity of design that is
truly refreshing among so much that is over-
wrought and affected.
The Carnegie Prize was this year awarded to
W. T. Smedley for his large canvas called Book-
lovers, which is, on the whole, a very creditable
performance. It shows a family outdoors, under
trees, through which the sunlight filters down upon
the group, painted in a most straightforward and
unaffected manner, that conveys a good sense of
air and atmosphere and gives life and vitality to
the figures.
Art should not be a statement of facts, but an
evocation. Some works in this exhibition cry out
at you with a loud, almost strident, voice; one or
two beckon alluringly and wait to be wooed. Of

the first, the striking portrait of Captain Try-Davis,
by Wilhelm Funk, is the most notable example.
This is one of the most interesting and vigorously
executed portraits in the exhibition. It is instinct
with life, revealing the alert, genial personality of a
man of the world. There is just enough of the
gorgeously red and blue dress uniform shown
beneath the opera coat to give the necessary touch
of color to the composition, which is broadly
painted, but somewhat lacking in atmosphere—
one does not feel behind the figure, which is much
like a well-executed high relief stuck flat against a
wall. In sharp contrast to this is the painting by
C. W. Hawthorne called Venetian Girl, which has
all the wooing charm and persuasive power that
the foregoing lacks—it does not cry out to be
looked at. This pensive, dark-eyed woman, with
a long black shawl thrown over her, holding a red
fan in her rather wan hands, reflects some of that
feminine mystery which John Sloan has so aptly
called The Look of a Woman. This canvas of
Hawthorne’s, which is the first the public has had
an opportunity to see since his return from Italy,
is painted in a manner quite different from his old
vigorous method. It is very low in key, the
brush work unobtrusive but expressive, and the
means employed have disappeared more thor-
oughly than in his older work. Akin to this in
spirit is the portrait of Madame Hanako, by Ben
Ali Haggin, which presents this mouse-like little
creature in a violet kimono, holding a fan outspread
before her with a calm, almost hypnotic, grace that
makes most of the other figures near by look blase
and commonplace. Whether it be the subject or
whether it be the painter, he has caught some of the
Oriental poise and conscious, premeditated sim-
plicity which, through long usage, has become sec-
ond nature to these people whose daily inter-
course is one succession of beautiful, appropriate
ceremonies.
In a class with these two is the portrait by S. J.
Woolf of Alfred Hertz, Esq., who is shown in the
mvstic glow of Wagnerian footlights.
Of the younger men, the leaven of to-day and
the hope of the future, there is very little shown
that is worth while. Beyond the two canvases by
George Bellows, called Pennsylvania Excavation
and A Stag at Sharkey’s, one fails to remember
anything characteristic. In both of these he has
presented passing phases of the town in a manly,
uncompromising manner that give cause for regret
that so little opportunity is afforded the public to
see and judge the work of these men who in more
than one instance will be the masters of to-morrow.

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