THE BEST cross section of contemporary American art that has recently been put on record is the annual exhibition of painting, at the Whitney Museum. We all know that cutting such a good, clean slice through the heterogeneous composition of present-day output requires skill; it is the more commendable a performance here because it has been accomplished not by a jury of selection but by the artists themselves. Each painter included in the showing has had the opportunity to choose the work which he felt best represented his real achievement. Occasionally, one would wish that the artist (or his dealer, perhaps) had made a wiser selection but in general the choice is admirable, resulting in an unusually stimulating exhibition. Every large showing of American painting emphasizes the variety of esthetic conviction, the lack of conformity to any one artistic creed of our art world. There is no “American School” or for that matter no local School; every painter appears to be on his own. It further appears that the more he is on his own the better his work, for the would-be translations of French ideas which crop out in abstract or surrealist canvases are the most negligible items of the exhibition, although one must also include in this bad side of the ledger one of those palpable imitations of Mexican murals which used to appear on every side when our attack of Mexicanitis was at its height. The general impression of this large showing is that our artists are taking more account of the fact that good painting is not like a rash that breaks out from a rush of brushes to the canvas, but is based on hard work and discipline. The contemporary scene is reflected on many canvases, stressing the point that in itself no subject is commonplace, yet its approach and treatment may render it so, nor will vehemence of handling or violence of color redeem this banality. This clashing of cymbals to hide commonplace ideas, however, is not much in evidence, for the greater part of these canvases of the “American scene” illustrate lucidly the fact that however ordinary and matter of fact the subject, the artist can transform it through his imaginative recasting into a new compelling expression, conveying his emotional reaction to us in his own terms. Some of the outstanding works of this class are Charles Locke's Waterfront; Pretzel Vender by Elliot Orr; Hobson Pittman's Quiet Evening; William Gropper's The Last Cow; Wheat by Joe Jones; Turkey in the Straw by Manuel Tolegian; The Railroad Cut by Lamar Dodd; Employment Agency by Isaac Soyer; Antonio Martino's Terrace Street Hill; Julian Levi's Shipbottom Fishery; Charles Sheeler's Clapboards in Sunlight; Louis Bouchés Summer of 1937. Other notable landscapes are by Andrée Ruellan, Allen Tucker, Edward Hopper, Henry Mattson, Emlen Etting. It is pleasing to observe a number of artists laying aside mannerisms and finding a personal convincing idiom; among these artists, all good painters, are Audrey Buller, who escapes her slick neat little formula of meticulous perfection for the simplicity and freedom of a delightful flower piece, Canterbury Bells; Henry Billings who, temporarily at least, renounces his absorption in the machine age for humanity in an excellent figure piece; Katherine Schmidt, dropping her new objectivity formulas for vital portraiture, physical gesture and mental habit finely synchronized; Paul Cadmus, eschewing stunt performances for a finely considered and thoroughly accomplished figure painting. There are, in fact, some brilliant figure paintings in this exhibit which alone would give it distinction; Kunyioshi's Café, Speicher's Marianna, Jack Levine's String Quartette must head the list which includes other excellent works such as David Celantano's First Born, Isabel Bishop's Girls with a Book and Girls Against Sky by Guy Pene Du Bois.