Walter Pach set out to be a painter. He presently found that he and everyone else had more fun when he criticized other people's paintings (Ananias or the False Artist, The Masters of Modern Art, An Hour of Art). A little, well-liked man muffling a torrent of talk in a brown torrent of mustache, he has never flinched, after his fiercest attacks on other men's works of art, from putting his own on view. Last week he did it again, at Manhattan's Knoedler Galleries, his first exhibition since 1931.
His colleagues, the critics, looked doubtfully...
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