" He turned to Conrad Lagrange
who was an interested observer of the scene--"Am I not right, Lagrange?"
"Quite right, Mr. Taine,--quite right. As you say, the portrait is most
worthy the beauty and character of the charming subject."
Another paroxysm of coughing mercifully prevented the poor creature's
reply.
With one accord, the little group turned, now, to James Rutlidge--the
dreaded authority and arbiter of artistic destinies. That distinguished
expert, while the others were speaking, had been listening intently;
ostensibly, the while, he examined the picture with a show of trained
skill that, it seemed, could not fail to detect unerringly those more
subtle values and defects that are popularly supposed to be hidden from
the common eye. Silently, in breathless awe, they watched the process by
which professional criticism finds its verdict. That is, they _thought_
they were watching the process. In reality, the method is more subtle than
they knew.
While the great critic moved back and forth in front of the easel; drew
away from or bent over to closely scrutinize the canvas; shifted the easel
a hair breadth several times; sat down; stood erect; hummed and muttered
to himself abstractedly; cleared his throat with an impressive "Ahem";
squinted through nearly closed eyes, with his head thrown back, or turned
in every side angle his fat neck would permit: peered through his
half-closed fist; peeped through funnels of paper; sighted over and under
his open hand or a paper held to shut out portions of the painting;--the
others _thought_ they saw him expertly weighing the evidence for and
against the merit of the work.
Pages:
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160