Intimate recollections of Joseph Jefferson . as that of any part he ever old quilted jacket, whose original colour hadbeen crimson, was his delight. This jacket wasso daubed and besmeared with paint that its usecould not by any possibility be mistaken. Hishair, which was still thick and dark at seventy-five, was worn, upon these studio occasions, inartistic and unruly abandonment. When atwork upon a picture,—and he worked veryrapidly, often covering and finishing a largecanvas in two days,—he would become so ab-sorbed in the adjustment of tones and values asto be utterly oblivious of
Intimate recollections of Joseph Jefferson . as that of any part he ever old quilted jacket, whose original colour hadbeen crimson, was his delight. This jacket wasso daubed and besmeared with paint that its usecould not by any possibility be mistaken. Hishair, which was still thick and dark at seventy-five, was worn, upon these studio occasions, inartistic and unruly abandonment. When atwork upon a picture,—and he worked veryrapidly, often covering and finishing a largecanvas in two days,—he would become so ab-sorbed in the adjustment of tones and values asto be utterly oblivious of the presence of any onein the room with him. His studio was simply awork-room—there was no attempt at decoration—but it was most interesting. A large easelstood by the north window. At his left handwas a metal revolving stand for tube colours,brushes, bottles, and rags; at his right a lowstand for his palette, which was unusually largeand made of metal. Canvas, pictures, andframes were stacked against the walls in JOSEPH JEFFERSON 55 Mr. Jeffersons painting was what is calledsolid and direct, much of the work being donewith his palette knife, or perhaps with histhumb, while he talked with his visitors. Allmen are in some way equal, he would say; artists meet on a level. A star and his dresser, if possessed of genius, may meet onequal ground. To Mr. Jefferson, perception of art was a rev-elation. He did not have to struggle throughyears to achieve this knowledge, which broughthim so much pleasure. He never had a lessonin painting, but those who knew him understoodthe open secret of his clear vision and his sweetinterpretation of nature. In his remarks uponart, Mr. Jefferson would say: I see and feel something I want to paint,—then I paint what I see—my impressions. Fidel-ity to fact simply for facts sake means nothingin painting, and it means nothing in acting. Inpainting, or in dramatic presentations, what isoften intended for truth becomes exact
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