Exhibitions
Nicholas Granger-Taylor (Waterman Fine Art, till 22 May) Bryan Ingham (Francis Graham-Dixon Gallery, till 6 June)
Do I see lemons?
Giles Auty
The odd nature of the professional world I inhabit was brought home to me forcibly last week at the opening of an exhi- bition of work by a young artist at Water- man Fine Art (74A Jermyn Street, W1). The artist in question was Nicolas Granger- Taylor, whom I have known since his stu- dent days, and the nature of my surprise concerned the absolutely contradictory nature of the short speech given by Sir Roger de Grey, President of the Royal Academy, when officially opening the show, and the introduction to the exhibi- tion catalogue written by Robin Simon, art historian and editor of Apollo. While Sir Roger averred that the works on view had nothing whatsoever to do with realism, or the direct transcription of physi- cal appearances, Simon's introduction sug- gested the precise opposite. How could those present even begin to trust the evi- dence of their own eyes faced with such contradictory instructions from two emi- nent authorities? One wondered whether men in white coats might not be along in a few moments to remove one or other of them or, if Sir Roger were right in his assertions, nearly all of those present, including this correspondent, who imag- ined quite wrongly that they were in the presence of some form of direct, perceptu- al painting.
Nicolas Granger-Taylor approaches his 30th birthday and has become acclaimed and relatively successful already, his work fetching very pleasant prices for so young a man. However, only a few years ago the artist was a lonely, struggling and often reviled student at the Royal Academy Schools, which seems so pleased suddenly to claim him as a true son. Granger- Taylor's attempts to work in traditions which might have been understood better by previous generations of students there were greeted with general derision by his trendier fellows. Paradoxically, the Royal Academy Schools has been very anxious in recent years to disassociate itself from any- thing remotely 'academic', imagining wrongly that well-made and relatively straightforward work must necessarily be sterile or boring.
The President of the Royal Academy's comments notwithstanding, Granger-Tay- lor's painting follows a well-worn path, but is distinctive none the less. Its subjects strike me as precisely what they appear to be and remind me that the American artist, the late Edward Hopper, dismissed the `Clementines; 1993, oil on canvas, by Nicholas Granger-Taylor
notions spread by avant-gardists that his work was all about angst and alienation as so much piffle.
The problem is an intriguing one and arises from the determinist doctrine com- mon to the modernist faithful. According to this, artists, to be taken seriously, must work within the fashionable artistic modes of their time. Granger-Taylor tries, on the other hand, to embrace tradition yet add his own, intelligent personal vision — a perfectly acceptable aim. By today's stan- dards his work looks reasonably accom- plished until one remembers the skills of such as Augustus John or Graham Suther- land when at least ten years younger. They, however, were not swimming against the raging torrent unleashed by modernists in art education and almost every arm of pro- fessional, artistic opportunity in the West. I am told the large painting by John Wonna- cott bought by the Metropolitan Museum in New York has just been hung, to the admiration of Americans unfamiliar previ- ously with his work. Back in London, Won- nacott, one of this country's absolute elite of perceptual artists, has yet to be made a Royal Academician, although now 52. Today, the Royal Academy promotes utter- ly different values, as we shall see shortly when its annual Summer Show is unveiled.
The paintings of Bryan Ingham have also been familiar to me for some time. His exhibition of paintings and reliefs at Fran- cis Graham-Dixon's excellent establish- ment in Clerkenwell (17-18 Great Sutton Street, EC1) is accomplished, considered and beautiful, as befits an obvious disciple of Ben Nicholson. The artist is in his mid- fifties and has been exposed relatively little, his modest designation of himself as a late developer being partly to blame. The exhi- bition is a treasure-house of strongly designed, fragmented works based on post- Cubist principles but with a voice and authority of their own.
Looking at the work, there seems no rea- son for it not to be represented more extensively in national collections. I imag- ine it will appeal most strongly to those pri- vate buyers whose tastes veer towards the architectonic. It reassembles pictorial facts in manners which reflect artists as dis- parate as Schwitters and Juan Gris. As Bryan Robertson has remarked, the work lends itself ideally to public commission — but this would require the co-operation of this quiet resident of the Lizard peninsula. Possibly he is quite content there.
In conclusion, those who believe the recession is over could demonstrate their faith quite painlessly in a visit to The Affordable British Art Show, put on by the noted bon viveur and art dealer Michael Parkin at Whiteleys in Queensway, W2 in the third-floor gallery there until 16 May. Among the talented artists on view is the forgotten Roland Collins. For those nervous of such matters, I am assured that all the art on view is exactly what it appears to be.
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