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Updated: June 23, 2025
If you have, you're just in time to join in the massacre of the innocents. Sellers has been smiting my child and cat hip and thigh. Look at his eye. There! Did you see it flash then? He's on the warpath again. 'My dear Beverley, said Sellers, rather stiffly, 'I am merely endeavouring to give you my idea of the picture's defects. I am sorry if my criticism has to be a little harsh.
In the faces of all there was visible the spirit of their yellow-bearded leader, who made the center of the picture's foreground. I saw the soul of that canvas a splendid resolution a look forward, a purpose, an aim to be attained at no counting of cost.
He has lost himself or found himself in the expression of character; not merely character as one element in a picture's interest, but character as the element. In this picture of Nicholas Bruyningh we cannot escape from the merry careless temperament.
The most exhaustive visual power and executive capacity meet in this picture, which would seem to have traversed the many perils to which it has been exposed without really suffering so much as their enumeration makes one expect. Thausing tells us: The following is the story of the picture's wanderings, as told at Nuremberg.
I got around that difficulty, by telling him the cannon's our trademark, so to speak proves that the picture's our work, and I was afraid if we left it out people wouldn't know for certain if it was a Saltmarsh Handel now you wouldn't yourself " "What, Captain? You wrong yourself, indeed you do. Anyone who has once seen a genuine Saltmarsh-Handel is safe from imposture forever.
That was not her real name, but by that she was distinguished at Gravier's to emphasise the picture's beauty notwithstanding the somewhat revolting peculiarity of the sitter's appearance.
"George Talboys," he said, "we have between us only one wax candle, a very inadequate light with which to look at a painting. Let me, therefore, request that you will suffer us to look at it one at a time; if there is one thing more disagreeable than another, it is to have a person dodging behind your back and peering over your shoulder, when you're trying to see what a picture's made of."
Some passages of the Bacchanal, however especially the figures of the two blond, fair-breasted goddesses or nymphs who, in a break in the trees, stand relieved against the yellow bands of a sunset sky are as beautiful as anything that Venetian art in its Bellinesque phase has produced up to the date of the picture's appearance.
He was charging the smoke, you see, and I couldn't get away because I'd caught my foot but I told you about that, didn't I?" Stuart interrupted himself to ask politely. "Yes," said the Picture, cheerfully, "I remember it very well; it was very foolish of you." Stuart straightened himself with a slightly injured air and avoided the Picture's eye.
Then, as he read on and painted the king and murderer together, while his voice waxed stronger and fuller, we saw Clarian step forward to the salver and busy with its lambent flame, till it blazed up with a broad, red light, that, shedding a weird splendor upon all around, and lending a supernatural effect to the room's deep shadows, the picture's funereal aspect, and the unearthly pallor of the boy's countenance, startled our eyes like the painful glare of midnight lightning.
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