It was 4:10 o'clock one afternoon last week, and the 14 members of the Selection Committee of Britain's Royal Academy were glumly having plum cake and tea to fortify themselves to go on judging the 9,944 entries for the yearly summer painting exhibition. By such reserved accolades as a grunt, a gently lifted hand and a muttered "Not too bad, what?" the committeemen had given a number of paintings the stature of D for doubtful, while marking the others X for rejected. Suddenly Academy President Charles Wheeler looked at a painting, put down his...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In