Frank Reynolds, R.I. | Page 7

cabarets artistiqueswere made
some of the portraits from life already referred to. But though portraits
of actual individuals, the models from which they were made are in
every case so characteristic, so closely in keeping with their
surroundings, that they serve nevertheless as types, and the drawings in
consequence make as direct an appeal to the stranger as to one who
might happen to be familiar with the originals of them. In the famous
Cabaret des Quat'-z-Arts was drawn the exquisite pen-and-ink portrait
on page 32, previously alluded to, of "Georgette de Bertigny": under
which name, for the purposes of the sketch, the identity of a figure at
one time very familiar to habitués of the Quat'-z-Arts is concealed. As
comment upon the depth of feeling which the drawing reveals, one may
read the pen picture which accompanied it:
Then Georgette de Bertigny steps out through the haze, and stands, a
tragic little figure, on the platform by the piano. Her hair and eyes are
ebon black; her face, thin lipped and pale, is like a mask of ivory.
There is no life whatever in it. She stands there like a tragedy in
miniature, her hands behind her back, unseeing, motionless. Then, to a
low, monotonously modulated melody, she sings a song of utter misery
and passion, and, as she sings, her eyes and face light up. The mask of
ivory gleams as though there were living light behind it, and the sweet,
low voice stirs us as but few singers can. The music ceases. And the
light behind the ivory goes out again as Georgette bows her thanks for
our enthusiasm.

[Illustration: LE 'IGH KICK. At the Moulin Rouge. From "Paris and
Some Parisians"]
It is trite to remark that comedy is akin to tragedy, and it is in the
natural order of things that an artist of so keen a perception of the
comedy of life should be able to strike with such truth and precision the
note of pathos or of tragedy.
[Illustration: A SPEECH AGAINST THE GOVERNMENT. From "Paris
and Some Parisians"]
The "Lapin Agile," a strange little café in that "other Montmartre"
which the tourist knoweth not, yielded abundance of material to Frank
Reynolds' pencil. Needless to say, the curious may search all Paris and
find no such sign as that of "The Sprightly Rabbit," but it is not
impossible that some may recognise, under his disguise, "Felix," the
ruffianly but accomplished host, who was the model for the sketch upon
page 43, one of the happiest examples in the present volume of the
artist's skill in portraiture, as well as of his rare technique in
pen-and-ink. Equally happy is the sketch which depicts "'Chacun' with
his 'Chacune'" at the Moulin de la Galette (page 13), in which the pose
of the figures and the expression upon their faces exhibit, if one may
put it so, the very perfection of naturalness. For a study of expression,
again, it would be difficult, or indeed impossible, to better the further
of the two figures in the drawing of "Le 'Igh Kick," made one night at
the Moulin Rouge. As to pose, could there be anything more exactly
right than the attitude of the gentleman "with bright-blue goggle eyes,
and a dress-shirt front in accordion pleats," who, on the occasion when
his portrait was made, had been to the races and backed a winner, and
was delivering "a long and extremely incoherent speech."
[Illustration: FELIX OF THE "LAPIN AGILE". From "Paris and Some
Parisians"]
[Illustration: PICTURES OF PARIS AND SOME PARISIANS]

FRANK REYNOLDS. V.
Looking through these inimitable sketches of Paris and Parisians, one
indulges a fond hope that some day Frank Reynolds will produce a
companion set of drawings illustrative of London life. It is answered,
perhaps, that Paris affords a unique opportunity such as the artist would
hardly find at home; but the supposition is due, of course, only to the
familiarity of our immediate surroundings and the difficulty which
invariably arises, in consequence, of focussing them to their true
proportions. Needless to say, Frank Reynolds has already worked the
rich vein of Cockney life to a considerable extent, but his essays in this
direction only increase the desire to see an exhaustive pictorial
commentary from his pencil and pen upon the men and manners of our
own city. Such quaint humour as is contained in his study of "Sunday
Clothes at Bethnal Green" (page 17), suggests what possibilities the
subject presents.
Incidentally, it may be remarked, apropos of this drawing, that the
London coster (whom he knows and loves) has provided some of his
most admirable studies from life. To that class belongs the sympathetic
study which faces page 1 in the present volume. The broad humours of
Whitechapel could scarcely fail to appeal irresistibly to an