Word: portraited
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Though she has been in public life for nearly three decades, Elizabeth Dole remains a kind of political cameo, not a full-fledged portrait. Few people know her well. She has no children. No house. No hobbies. Her 95-year-old mother is her best friend. She has little interest in cultural events. None in entertaining. "We don't have time to have little dinner parties," she says. Or the space. The Doles still live in the four-room, first-floor bachelor pad at the charm-free Watergate complex that he first moved into after his divorce. Decorating? Mrs. Dole...
...life of the left and of the theater, which were often related. The trouble is that Mellen's interest in that fascinating world is only perfunctory, and though she does a conscientious job with the silent, depressive Hammett, she is almost obsessed by the scheming Hellman, and her portrait is grimly negative...
...upcoming book, Jack and Jackie: Portrait of an American Marriage, celebrity biographer Christopher Andersen reveals that Marilyn Monroe was frisky indeed on the evening she delivered her breathy rendition of Happy Birthday to J.F.K. At a party for him later that night, Monroe headed for a window to do a striptease for government sharpshooters stationed on a roof nearby. That's patriotism, Demi Moore...
Nevertheless, he painted his first masterpiece in 1869-70, a portrait of his fellow painter from Aix, Achille Emperaire, with his dwarf's body and weak mantis limbs, enthroned--there is no other word for its weirdly authoritarian effect--in a high-backed chair upholstered in floral chintz. Painted darkly in homage to Manet and preceded by some of the most beautiful head studies in Cezanne's early work, it depicts the stunted Emperaire as a parody king, an "emperor," but with compassion; no mere caricatural impulse could account for the averted gaze and the great, sad, liquid eyes...
Cezanne was, from that point on, a great portraitist, one of the best the world has seen, especially of himself. His self-portraits invite comparison with those of Rembrandt, and the best of them justify it. He begins, in his own images, as a wild man, a solitary, an uncouth glaring peasant with greasy hair massed on either side of the pale dome of a bald head; he ends, in his last years, as a kind of sage. Between the extremes is a painting like the Self-Portrait (Portrait of the Artist with a Rose Background), with its powerfully modeled...