The Galleries of the Exposition | Page 8

of
pure paint enabled them to have the mixing of the paint, so to speak,
done on the canvas, as the various primary colours juxtaposed would
produce any desired number of secondary and tertiary colours without
loss of freshness. In other words a green would be produced, not by
mixing yellow and blue on the palette, but by putting a yellow dot and
a blue dot alongside of each other, and so ad infinitum. According to
the form of their colour dots they were called pointillistes, poiristes,
and other more or less self-explanatory names. The service of these
men to art can never be estimated too highly. The modern school of
landscape painting particularly, and other art involving indoor subjects,
are based entirely on the principles Monet discovered to the profession.
Pissarro, on either end of the wall opposite the Monet, appeals more in

the new method of the neo-impressionists than Monet, by reason of
much more interesting subjects. The one Pissarro on the right is of the
first order from every point of view, demonstrating the superiority of
the neo-impressionistic style applied to a very original and interesting
subject. "The River Seine," by Sisley, is also wonderfully typical of this
new style, while of the two Renoirs, only the still-life can really be
called successful. There is an unfortunate fuzziness in his landscape
which defeats all effect of difference of texture in the various objects of
which this picture is composed.
There are a number of canvases in this gallery which have nothing to
do with the predominating impressionistic character of the gallery. The
Puvis de Chavannes gives one a very fine idea of the idealistic outlook
of this greatest of all modern decorators. His art is so genuinely
decorative that to see one of his pictures in a frame seems almost
pathetic, when we think how infinitely more beautiful it would look as
part of a wall. Eugène Carrière is very well represented by a stately
portrait of a lady with a small dog. Carrière's mellow richness is
entirely his own and rarely met with in any other artist's work.
On the west wall opposite the Puvis four very different canvases
deserve to be mentioned. In the center a young Russian, Nicholas
Fechin, displays a very unusual virtuosity in a picture of a somewhat
sensual-looking young creature. Aside from the fascination of this
young human animal, the handling of paint in this canvas is most
extraordinary, possessing a technical quality few other canvases in the
entire exhibition have. There is life, such as very few painters ever
attain, and seen only in the work of a master. This work is not entirely a
Nell Brinkley in oil, either. I confess I have a strange fondness for this
weird canvas.
The international character of this gallery is most pronounced. Directly
above the Fechin, Frits Thaulow, the Norwegian, justifies his reputation
as the painter of flowing water in a picture of great beauty. Gaston La
Touche faintly discloses in a large canvas his imaginative style, carried
so much farther in his later work. Joseph Bail, the Frenchman, got into
this gallery probably only on the basis of size, to balance the La Touche
on the other side. To all appearances Bail has very little in common
with the general modern character of this gallery. Nevertheless his
canvas has merit in many ways.

Foreign Nations

France
A discussion of the impressionistic school makes it almost imperative
to continue our investigation by way of the French Section. France is
easily to modern art what Italy was to the art of the Renaissance or
Greece to antiquity. Almost all countries, with the exception of those of
northern Europe, have gone to school at Paris. It becomes quite evident
at first glance that a certain very desirable spaciousness in the hanging
of the pictures contributes much toward the generally favorable
impression of this section of the exhibition, though it is hard to
understand why this fine effect should have been spoiled by the pattern
used on the wall-covering. It seems unbelievable that a people like the
French should so violate a fundamental principle, which a
first-semester art student would scarcely do. The otherwise delightful
impression of the French section, so excellently arranged, is
considerably impaired by this faux pas. There is no chronological
succession in evidence in the hanging of pictures in the six galleries of
this section, and old and new, conservative and radical, are hung
together with no other consideration than harmonious ensemble.
Gallery 18.
In the western end of the section presided over by a decorative painting
of some aras among orange trees (over the west door), a beautiful,
almost classic canvas by Henri Georget commands immediate attention.
The poetic idealism of this decorative landscape, together with a fine
joyousness, give it