Living Up to Expectations
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

Every painter inspired by masters feels daunted by their example. But if your own great-great-grandfather was such a luminary, the stakes are even hgher. To his credit, John C.P. Constable (1928–2002) attempted neither to duplicate nor ironically recast his ancestor’s remarkable achievement. The more than 20 of his landscapes, still lifes and figure paintings currently at Salander-O’Reilly demonstrate the solid, and occasionally sparkling, efforts of a painter willingly submitting to the parameters of his own talents and of changing tastes.
To the elder Constable’s painterly realism, the younger artist added expressionistic inflections of color and drawing. The earliest piece at Salander is also the most mysterious: The blunt, shadowy modeling of forms in the oil painting “Old Man and Child” (c. 1950) makes for a somber image, only partly leavened by gleams of light on his forehead and in the distant sky. More typical is “Freda and Phoebe” (1983), in which adroit observations of illuminated and shadowed skin tones and upholstery impart a quiet radiance to a domestic scene.
Mr. Constable’s freshest works, however, are his watercolors. The vivid still life “White Sweet Peas” (c. 1985) defines a burst of flowers with just the surrounding notes of blue and yellow-green; the barest haze of color is sufficient to model the blossoms themselves. Another highlight, “Pulchinello and Two Zannis” (c. 1995), captures three lively figures and their flowing garments with little more than a few deft swirls.
The artist never matches his forebear’s radiant light or remarkable gravity of form. The shortfall is particularly evident in several landscapes, which, though brisk in execution, feel relatively pedantic in their evenness of detail. One particularly expressionistic sketch fares better, however: The robust colors of “Figures in a Park” (1996) hum with enthusiasm for the crisp oppositions of vertical trees and horizontal ground, and for the contrasts between the figure’s pale garments and the steely green tints of sky.
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