International studio (34.1908)

Pennsylvania Academy

doubt that few works shown here will stand the
test of time better, or even as well, as has Sargent’s
Lady with a Rose, whose substantial merits have
only been more firmly established with the years.
Painted as far back as 1882, when Sargent was
not yet a name to conjure with, this canvas has
more than held its own with the most notable
achievements in portraiture done since the day it
created its first furor.
With its old-fashioned crinoline dress, its rich
yet sober color and its supple, unostentatious tech-
nique, it has to-day the aspect of an old master.
From most every point of view this canvas is
superior to his later work. He had not yet become
so preoccupied with the superficial aspect of things
which has made him to-day the most incomparable
master of still life the world has ever seen. There
is a power of evocation in this canvas altogether
absent in his work of to-day, and one is conscious
of the spirit that imbues and invests matter with
life. To call his present work psychological
portraiture, as has been done by some overzealous
enthusiasts, is somewhat far-fetched. That it
gives a vivid impression of reality there is no
denying, something it could not very well fail
of doing by reason of its wonderfully accurate
rendering of surfaces, which are searched out
with such masterly precision as to give the illusion
of life, when in reality it only presents the outward
pomp and show, the trappings and habiliments of
life. And it is just in this respect that the Lady
with a Rose is so infinitely superior to his famous
portrait of the Misses Wertheimer, his Mrs. Ma-
thias, shown two years ago at the Pennsylvania
Academy, or his portrait of A. Augustus Healy,
Esq., in the present exhibition, which is as good an
illustration as any of his still-life manner.
In a man less able technically, this shortcoming
is more obvious and in just that degree does the
work of the lesser men fail of imposing themselves
upon you. This was true of the portrait of T. De
Witt Cuyler, Esq., by Julian Story, and the por-
trait of Mrs. Victor Mather, by William M. Chase,
both of which appeared over-refined in color and
treatment when compared with the splendid direct-
ness of the Sargent hanging in the same room.
Then, if one looked at the fine, moving canvas,
called Girl with Lemons, by Charles W. Hawthorne,
one had a strong feeling of the superficial brilliancy
and the deadly cleverness of much of the work that
is most admired. One felt in the presence of many
of these canvases that it was painting for painting’s
sake, in which brush work and tricks of technique
have been exploited for their own glory, pianola-

like, without any regard for life and its deeper
significance. Surely, one may be pardoned for
expecting something more from the artist than
acrobatic feats of technique, however interesting,
however amusing these may be in themselves. It
is this rare quality of suggesting more than he tells,
this latent power of inference developed in his later
work, that gives an alluring, persuasive charm to
these new paintings of Hawthorne. Since his
last appearance in any public exhibition—about
' two years ago—he has evidently had certain spirit-
ual adventures which have given new color and
meaning to his work, and his brush is charged with
a more soul-searching touch than ever before.
And that is what gives peculiar distinction to the
painting of this little Italian girl peeling lemons
in a yellow bowl, whose color is repeated in the
yellow-green shawl cast over her shoulders. -
The Temple Medal was this year awarded to
Frank W. Benson for his painting of three young
girls seated under some trees, called Portrait 0} My
Three Daughters, which was a fine exposition of
sunlight painting, refreshingly cheerful in color and
composition, thoroughly deserving of the honor
bestowed upon it. One questions the good judg-
ment of the jury, however, in awarding the Lippin-
cott Prize to James R. Hopkins for his canvas
called The Shining Gown, which, to be sure, is
nice enough in pattern and unobtrusively painted
but not especially notable. It certainly falls con-
siderably below the beautifully painted figure in
white, hanging near it, called Line Parisienne, by
Alfred H. Maurer, or The Whistling Boy, by J.
Frank Currier, which was one of the most unf or get-
able little canvases in the whole exhibition, that
found its fellow in the no less interesting painting by
Will Howe Foote of the head of a Boy. This, and
the Girl in Brown, by Frederick C. Frieseke, made
the Portrait of William V. Lawrence, by Violet
Oakley, hanging on the same wall, look like a
highly colored Christmas card that was not con-
cerned with life or the living. To look at this and
then at the life-size portrait by Cecilia Beaux of
Brother and Sister, hanging on the wall opposite,
was much like coming into touch with reality again
after being in a stained-glass window factory, where
everything was circumscribed by apetrifying formal-
ism. While this and her portrait of Mr. Lewis
are not to be ranked with such a masterly canvas
as her fine portrait of Mr. D.. exhibited here two
years ago, nevertheless, they show Miss Beaux
as being one of the most able exponents of portrait
painting in this country to-day. Of the many
who have, in recent years, come under the sway of

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