Philip submits Miguel Ajuria's portrait to the Salon

Philip Carey’s submission of a portrait of Miguel Ajuria to the Salon marks a decisive test of his hopes as a painter: the work is rejected, and the verdict soon becomes part of a broader reckoning with his artistic ability. The episode brings together a subject Philip chooses for the portrait, the competitive judgment of the Salon, and the blunt assessment of his teacher, Monsieur Foinet.

A Portrait and Its Subject

Philip meets Miguel Ajuria, a Spanish writer who has come to Paris to write novels and supports himself through lessons, translations, and, when necessary, sitting as a model. Ajuria regards modeling as degrading, though hunger has led him to accept it. Philip does not ask him to pose for a figure study; he wants to paint only his head, explaining that it interests him and that he believes he can make a good portrait.

The choice makes the work a particular artistic undertaking rather than simply another exercise from the studio. Philip has identified a face he wants to paint and intends the finished portrait for the next Salon. Ajuria’s precarious circumstances also give the encounter a material edge: the model’s income and Philip’s ambitions both depend on work being judged and paid for, though in different ways.

Submission and Rejection

Philip finishes the portrait and sends it to the Salon. He has worked hard on it and persuades himself that it must have merit, even though, when looking at it, he senses that something is wrong but cannot identify what. At a distance from the canvas his confidence returns. The rejection therefore meets a divided expectation: he has reason to hope, but his own response to the painting has already registered uncertainty.

The refusal initially seems manageable because Philip has prepared himself for the possibility that the work will not be accepted. The comparison becomes sharper when Flanagan reports that one of his own pictures has been selected. Philip congratulates him, but cannot keep irony out of his voice. Lawson notices the reaction, and Philip immediately asks whether, in his position, Lawson would abandon painting. The Salon’s decision is thus not an isolated disappointment: it turns another painter’s success into a measure of Philip’s own prospects and brings his doubts into the open.

Instruction and Artistic Judgment

Philip’s uncertainty has a longer context in the artistic standards he encounters in Paris. In the Latin Quarter, debate sets older academic reputations against newer painting: young artists champion Manet, Monet, and Degas, while Raphael’s standing is treated with derision. Philip gradually adopts the impressionists’ cause. His changing taste shows how artistic judgment is formed within a community, where aesthetic allegiance can signal belonging as much as individual perception.

His encounters with Fanny Price offer a contrasting account of instruction and authority. Foinet tells Fanny that her drawing is entirely wrong and advises her to tear it up; she protests that paying for instruction should entitle her to teaching rather than humiliation. At the Louvre, she guides Philip toward works she admires, including Rembrandt’s The Disciples at Emmaus, insisting that feeling its beauty would teach him something about painting. Her confidence in art’s power contrasts with the severity of the studio’s practical judgment, while her forceful guidance shows that artistic education can itself become a contest over who gets to define value.

After the Salon rejection, Philip asks Foinet directly about his chances. Foinet distinguishes technical competence from artistic distinction: he credits Philip with manual dexterity, industry, and intelligence, and allows that hard work could make him a careful, competent painter. But he sees no talent in the work Philip has shown and tells him he will remain mediocre. The judgment gives explicit form to the fear that had accompanied Philip’s decision to pursue art: that effort might produce skill without the exceptional ability that could justify the sacrifices involved.

Consequences and Significance

The submission does not, by itself, settle Philip’s future. Its consequence is to make the question unavoidable. The rejection, Flanagan’s acceptance, Philip’s self-doubt, and Foinet’s assessment converge on the same issue from different directions: whether perseverance can compensate for the absence of distinctive talent. The episode presents artistic success not as the automatic reward for diligence, but as a judgment negotiated among the painter’s own perception, the studio’s instruction, and the Salon’s institutional selection.

The portrait also belongs to a larger change in Philip’s aesthetic life. He has moved from looking at unfamiliar modern painting with amazement to speaking emphatically in favor of Manet, Monet, and Degas; photographs of Ingres’s Odalisque and Manet’s Olympia hang side by side above his washing stand. His commitment to contemporary taste does not guarantee achievement. The rejection exposes the gap between knowing which art he admires and possessing the ability to create work that can withstand professional judgment.

A later encounter with photographs of El Greco’s paintings offers another kind of artistic experience. Philip is initially troubled by their elongated figures and unusual proportions, yet senses in them a reality that ordinary realism does not explain. This response emphasizes that his education continues beyond the immediate verdict on the Ajuria portrait: the episode closes one hopeful test of his ability, but does not close his capacity to be moved or changed by art.