ON 15 DECEMBER 1972, in a lovely Georgian terraced house in Church Row, the most beautiful street in Hampstead, the country playground of Eighteenth Century London, Adrian Stokes (1902–1972) died quietly and with great dignity, painting to the very last despite the impairment from brain metastases of a rectal carcinoma. His life was both a private and a public one of unflagging devotion to art and to psychoanalysis—and to building a bridge between the two that will stand for generations.