Edouard Vuillard fills the
vision with soft browns and greens that may be Persian brocade design until we
see every branch and leaf, if the tree be leaved, is perfectly in place above
the unpatterned browns and greens of middle vistas below. Each different tree
is distinguishable. It’s one of the small public gardens off Hawthorn or St
Kilda streets, lined by Victorian bluestone and gravel paths of undemonstrative
white distemper. A family group comes to life in duotone abstracts, faces pinched
with July, their attention on some new amusement. A football-shape rests upon
green nearby like a recent witticism.
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