Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1871-06-08

"Sr' said DR.. johnson, Let me show you a
model
''Oh, Mr.. Ormond, I'm SO tired of this
position, wish you could let me have u
rest. Do-there's good fellow-please." ="
Wait just five minutes, Polly. till I've
done this bit of your head. Don't move
Just one minute more. I'm getting it right
now, and then Wen knock off for Bit
The request was the request of model;
the answer was the answer of II painter.
The model reclned, in half kneeling at
tltude, apparently at the foot of cross.
Her clasped hands We're uplilted; her
eyes upraised patheticaly; her long hair
streamed down, tlowingly, over neck and
shoulders; Il loose white sort of skirt
clothed her to the waist below was a red
ish-brown skirt, skillfully disposed as
'drapery,' in artiul folds. The whole
attitude and expression represented-and
represented well-imploring agony COM
bined with tender despair The bare
arms were beautifully posed; the eyes
cleaned with sublime splendor.
The painter, my friend Frank Ormond,
A. X. Ais working with quiet excite
ment at his easel His figure is tall; he
wears the velvet coat of his craft; he
but why describe him /? Everybody knows
Frank Ormond Let that pass.
And now. reader, while painter and
model (the attitude was trying one) have
knocked off, work for little rest, while
he lights pipe, and She, yawningly.
stretches her stiff and weary limbs, let US
look round us at the delicious litter of a
painter studio.
The house is old, and dates, probably
from Queen AIMS days lthas, no doubt,
been the habitation of mobiles of that peri
cd. You cannot see much of the walls,
but look at the doors. at the painted cell
ing, at the splendid marble mantlepece.
Look at the deep window places and tall
thickly-sashed windows. 1t is a house
which Hogarth might have used for the
residence of Lord Squanderfield.
The studio is a large three-windowed
room, cold and bare OF aspect. The backs
of canvasses framed with deal lie about
like bits of scenes out of use, and suggest
somewhat the coulisses of theatre. A
lay figure, with wooden tiXedness of as
pect, its head reminding one of ships
ligure-head, sits in a renaissance chair,
and wears thirteenth-century costume.
This figure forms the principal still-lite OBJ
ect in the room. In one corner reposes
the major part OF the old suit of armor,
the dull and dinted breast-plate surmount-
ed in a drnken way, by a rust-red helmet.
a bell-hilted rapier, tempt. Elizabeth,
which, says Frank, might have belonged
to Raleigh, leans against the wall, and
near it is small sword which suggests
the teacup times of Anne, the flowing
wig and stiff skirts, the figure of Addison,
or the brawling Mohocks who stopped
Swift's chair. From the open door Of u
richly carved dark dm0ire depends Jap
anese robe. Plaster casts of feet and
hands, busts, masks, and a torso, with
the muscles strongly accented by dust, are
sprinkled about, and contrast chalkily with
the color of hangings, bits of silk dresses,
and remnant OF tapestry Two old toils,
one broken, and both previously damaged,
lie across the arms of u magnificent an
tiq1e chair, which was IA seat of crimson
velvet, on which rest Spanish mandolin
and one boXing-glove; while a strip of
yellow Chinese silk has slipped down on
the floor a stuffed monkey, with Il per-
ennial diabolical smile upon swollen Wis
sage, balances uneasly upon legs with a
padded look about them, while II stuffed
owl stares CLASSIFY in sullen gravity. The
bust of one Roman Emperor is crowned
with a Nandyke hat, and white petticoat
is supported by two Telasquez boar-spears.
A very handsome oak-table, with massive
legs, is covered with Venetian glasses and
Flemish bottles, with "pots" of various
sorts, comprising Girls de Flandres, Satsu-
ma jars, and the blue lange Lizen, or six
mark japanese ware, while an exquisite
little Japanese cabinet is crested by Il
handful of peacock's feathers. Sketches
in charcoal and in oils, copies of world
renowned pictures, studies, unfinished
paintings, are stFewn about in picturesque
and gtotesque confusion; and finally, at
one end of the room, with the best light
falling upon it, stands the gullotine-like
easel, ON which rests the picture of the
hour, the canvass which absorbs all Frank
Ormond's thoughts and is freighted with
all his ambition, the picture upon which
he is now working. And so the happy
painter works from year to year-labor,
completion, WEAKNESS, iruition, recon-
mencement. His whole work and hope
are concentrated, for the time, upon the
picture with which he remains faceIto
face for many lonely months. 1t is finish
ed at last, finished just when it must be
completed in order to be sent into the
Academy; and then the reaction of lasi-
tude after long tension begins. His
work has gone out from him; the painter
feels weary of the picture over which he
has felt SO many fluctuations of depression
and delight. 1t has absorbed so much of
himself that he cannot judge it truly, he
alternates between confidence and despon-
dency; he sighs half with regret half in
relief, as his distracting darling is carried
forth from his doors Then he relaxes the
long train of anxious labor; he amuses
himself, and half iorgets his art; he
works but little, if at all The picture
gets well hung; then comes the private
view, with the critics; then the crowding
about the shining rows in the splendid
gallery; then follow the favorable notice,
the praise OF friends, the sneer of "broth-
er" rivals; then all this passes away, until
after due relaxation, the painter recon-
mences with renewed acdor his work SO
beautiful and loved. a painter, by the
way, has one great advantage over an au-
thor-he is sure of his spectators, of his
public. If his work be hung in good
exhibition it is sure to be seen by all those
Va hon. tho naipta, 1ynnlI Ii t, II