Word: portraitists
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...money went to Ben Nicholson for a thin, delicately colored canvas called December 5, 1949. At 58, Nicholson is the dean of British abstractionists, and whether or not his picture merits the prize, his deanship perhaps does. The son of a conservative portraitist, Nicholson usually starts with a landscape or still life, then refines it almost out of existence...
...hard to say which were more successful. Though there were only a few oil portraits in the show (Cox has done such celebrities as Harvard President James B. Conant, Judge Learned Hand, Dean Acheson), it was plain that he is no mere bread & butter portraitist. The pictures had a carefree, almost dashed-off look: lots of lively colors, some swift lines brushed in with a spare and sure touch. What they lacked in detail was made up in warmth and spontaneity. In a painting of his young daughter Kate, prim and neat in a party dress, Cox had added...
ITALIAN PAINTING: Milan's Bruno Cassinari, portraitist and landscapist, and Venice's Bruno Saetti, abstractionist, who shared the prize between them...
...rippled out Mozart symphonies and Boccherini sextets and concessionaires did a brisk business in peanuts, long lines of Back Bay dowagers, soda jerks, businessmen and urchins filed through the five long exhibition tents to see what they could see. There was a handsome, windswept Yacht Race by old (82) Portraitist Charles Hopkinson, an expressionistic Adoration of the Magi by David Aronson, paintings by such artists as John Atherton, Gardner Cox, John Marih, George Grosz. And, from lesser lights, there were rows of wild abstractions and novelties, e.g., a huge sculpture done in living moss festooned with geraniums, a "painting" composed...
Artist Lowry grew up in & around Manchester, but he was 28 before it occurred to him to paint it. He was a landscape man and portraitist, with strong academic tastes. Then one day he missed a train in a grimy Manchester suburb, and his life's work hit him in the eye. Says Lowry: "It was a wet afternoon, and I climbed up to the street feeling very disgruntled. I looked across . . . and saw an industrial scene. I detested it. That...