The death knell for painting has been ringing long enough now to have been heard by generations of artists. To those who esteem high art (no scare quotes, please), it is a silly notion, more a feature of an art world geared toward novelty than a prognosis of the medium itself. This season alone has seen top-drawer exhibitions of painting, and artists continue resolutely to dab at their canvases. More than a few of them, however, have grown accustomed to the fact that their chosen medium is considered by many to be outmoded. (That it is so considered, more likely than not, by those who make art their business is one of the peculiar ironies of our day.) In the January issue of Art in America, the critic Lilly Wei wondered, “Is there still a place for this kind of art, or is it just something in which we used to believe?” Wei was writing about the work of a specific artist, but her doubt goes to the art of painting itself. What is disheart ...

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