Of painting"s enduring genres, it may be the still life that offers the most brazen opportunities for virtuoso flourish, and that most closely approximates painting itself, as an art of arrangement of color, texture and light. Glistening dew drops on flower petals, contorted reflections of light on glass goblets and silver dishes, candied sweets heaped up in Chinese porcelain, the textures of fur, cloth, metal and bone--the rendering of such objects demands of an artist not only skill but an instinct for the thingness of things. Chardin, for example, was so gifted in this respect that certain admirers have been known to literally lick his paintings. However, skill, as always, is not the whole story: "One uses color but one paints with feelings," he once explained to a colleague hoping for tips on technique. For the viewer, the still life demands no extensive training in art theory, since its endless rewards are plain to the eye and mind--excepting the obvious symbolism that attends...