The San Francisco call., 1896-05-31
Some of the
English Color Masters.

track, soberly, conscientiously, with a
delicate and very often s delicious sense of
character and color. There is not q care
less touch IN his reserved and dignifed
portraits. How beautifully the old hands
OF Lady Mappin are suggested under her
old-fashloned mits; the fur coat hanging
over tie edge OF the chair is picture in
itself. II the head separates from the fig
ure and occupies different position in
regard to the background it is because he
has fingered too long upon it, sacrificed
too much to it-thfs fine, grave, old face,
with touch of WEAKNESS upon the heavy
lldded eyes and touch of the appeal of
mournful experience upon the soft, old
mouth.
With Mr.. Sargent the technique is the
first thing to be considered by the student,
the last apparently to occupy the painter
himself. He is pitiless reader of charac-
ter-the momentary confession of quick
gesture, furtive look, a significant smile
he seizes upon, and holds for all time as
the smile, the look, the characteristic ges-
ture. 1t is almost demoralizing to come
suddenly in the north room upon his por-
trait of Countess Plary Aldingen. If the
lady herselfwere to walk into the gallery,
full of self-constituted critics in tailor
made gowns and ''smart' hats, in her
white satin gown, with her hare neck and
arms, the effect could hardly be more
startling. The lady has risen abruptly
from sofa of rose satin, the folds of her
dress still clinging to it, her fan is
crushed in one hand, the other is almost
to be extended in greeting a
marvellous, thin hand, as characteristic as
the head. She is tall, slender to thinress;
her uplifted head is thin, too, and as
frankly ugly as it is alive with animation,
amusement and intelligence. Her eyes
are bright and hard, her lips open in a
curious, slightly scornful smile. The new
conner may certainly expect not entirely
amiable witticism. Llewellyn's large por-
trait OF Mrs. Cosmo Beran, which balances
the Sargent on either side of large,
decorative picture, suffers all things by the
contrast. The woman is lay figure, the
painting is of the watery sweet order, the
pose is absolutely CONVENTIONAL woman
in white satin also, holding back por-
there. Between these two portraits is a
whirl of color, "The Garden of Dances"
by Herbert Olivier. In the confusion of
figures the one of Folly, throwing back a
ASdo AlhC u OtCCh lduIlt 10 gay
and graceful.
The large allegorical and the illustrative
picture, once sacred to the academy, has
evidently taken root In the new gallery
and blooms profusely as any weed-and
always with an explanatory line of prose
or poetry.
So there is ''Tne Theft of the Princess
Swan Skim by Golfers Smithers.
| tThe land east of the sun and west Of the moon)
Burne Jones' dream of Launcelot at the
Chapel of the San Grael.
(Right so he heard voice. etc.l
"The Game of Life and Death" is by
Philip Burne Jones, son of the great Sir
Edward, and he has taken number of
lines:
Her lips red, her looks were free
The nightmare Life In Death was she.
And the painter has not limited his rep
resentation of Nightmare Life in
Death to this picture. The landscape
men are not remarkable this year, with
the exception of George Wetherbee,
whose beautiful rich and delicate imagina-
tion makes poem of every blade of grass.
At Burlington House it is almost impossi-