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Updated: June 24, 2025
It is a whole-length figure painted in misty semi-tones, the feeling sentimental, un-Whistlerian, and, as we before remarked, wraith-like and lacking in substance when compared to Hals. There is actually a Wouverman in which no white horse is to be discovered. On Van der Werff and the romantic landscapist Wynants we need not dwell. The miniatures, pastels, and framed drawings are of goodly array.
Thessaly received him in a little room having a balcony which overhung the street. Delicate ivory plaques decorated the walls and the fanciful curtains of Indian muslin hung like smoke of incense in the still air. There were some extraordinary pastels by Degas forming a kind of frieze. The evening was warm and the campanile upstood against a sky blue as a sapphire dome.
In spite of its costly luxury, and its wonderful beauty of decoration, an exquisite Nattier was let into a panel above the fireplace, and a row of eighteenth-century pastels hung on the light grey walls, the octagon apartment lacked the restful charm which belongs to many a shabby little sitting-room.
Some writers, notably the eminent critic Roger Marx and the novelist Huysmans, hailed in Chéret an original artist as well as a learned technician. He then exhibited decorative pictures, pastels and drawings, which placed him in the first rank. Chéret is universally known. The type of the Parisian woman created by him, and the multi-coloured harmony of his works will not be forgotten.
In the face of such results as these it seems absurd to discuss the question whether or not Millet was technically a master of his trade, as if the methods that produced them could possibly be anything but good methods for the purpose; but it is still too much the fashion to say and think that the great artist was a poor painter to speak slightingly of his accomplishment in oil-painting and to seem to prefer his drawings and pastels to his pictures.
The salon was filled with the works of modern artists; there were landscapes by Dupre, with their long reeds and tall trees, their lowing oxen and marvellous skies; Delacroix's Arabian cavaliers, with their long white burnouses, their shining belts, their damasked arms, their horses, who tore each other with their teeth while their riders contended fiercely with their maces; aquarelles of Boulanger, representing Notre Dame de Paris with that vigor that makes the artist the rival of the poet; there were paintings by Diaz, who makes his flowers more beautiful than flowers, his suns more brilliant than the sun; designs by Decamp, as vividly colored as those of Salvator Rosa, but more poetic; pastels by Giraud and Muller, representing children like angels and women with the features of a virgin; sketches torn from the album of Dauzats' "Travels in the East," that had been made in a few seconds on the saddle of a camel, or beneath the dome of a mosque in a word, all that modern art can give in exchange and as recompense for the art lost and gone with ages long since past.
He does recall in essence at least the quality of pastels in prose, though the art intention is a sturdier one. It is enough that Twachtman did find his relationship to impressionism, and that he did not evolve a system of repetition which marks the failure of all influence.
All three the old mother in a linen cap doing the cooking and the washing, the elder sister giving lessons at forty sous, and the little one working in pastels were vaguely conscious of representing something very humble, but sacred and noble a family without a blemish on their name. They felt that they moved in an atmosphere of esteem and respect.
This little picture, however, being recognized as something remarkable, went into the salon in the following October, and received the first medal for pastels completely overtopping the more elaborate oil which had also been accepted, and which got a mention. Truly, the Pole's second start in life bade fair to be as sensationally successful as his first had been unhappy.
A carpet of old Persian, of a faded blue a few cabinets spaced along the walls a few bookcases full of books old and new a pillared French clock on the mantelpiece a comfortable modern sofa, and some armchairs branches of white rhododendron in a great enamelled vase and two oval portraits on the walls, a gentleman in red, and a gentleman in blue, both pastels by Latour in some such way one might have catalogued the contents of the room.
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