Artists are seldom modest folk. They have enough troubles without trying to bridle the human vanity that, likely as not, feeds their art. But 47-year-old Painter Isabel Bishop is an exception to the rule. "Sometimes I think I've got nerve," she cries, waving her long bony hands in the air, "to paint at all!"
Critics and collectors disagree with her. Isabel Bishop's paintings hang in more than a dozen of the country's top museums; when a Manhattan gallery last week staged her first show of oils in ten years, it had to borrow almost half of the show from previous buyers. A...
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