Art history is rarely mindful of those who don’t fit neatly into its narratives, and the painter Balthus (1908–2001), who passed away last year at age ninety-two, has never really been a part of its story. Scorned by his detractors for his unregenerate representationalism and for the erotic overtones of his pictures of young girls, Balthus was never a modernist, though he lived during its headiest years and counted many of its protagonists among his friends. So it seems fitting that, during a spring season in New York blooming with outstanding gallery shows of modern art, including one devoted to Arshile Gorky’s portraits and a breathtaking selection from the Washing- ton University Gallery of Art at Salander-O’Reilly, his final two paintings hung in a group show, virtually unremarked upon.[1]

Seen on adjacent walls, the two related canvases—the medium-sized Midsummer Night’ ...