Art
Warm welcome
Evan Anthony
It could be fairly charged that I have been second to some in my appreciation of work shown at the gallery of the Gimpel Fils, having often felt rather guarded about falling for the establishment avant in which they tend to specialise. But such minor critical recalcitrance cannot take away from the current fils the impressive credentials passed on by the Gimpels who, in earlier days, had the knack of selecting fresh talents destined to become modern giants. In recent times, the air of slickness permeating the place made one as aware of the business acumen in evidence as of the art on view. Ever willing to acknowledge improvement, I must now fall in line with any sycophants around and -pay homage. With mouth-watering envy and admiration, I confess that what I want more than a water bed or colour TV is a sitting room that looks just like the elegant new Gimpel Fils Gallery, located at 30 Davies Street, complete with every last piece of the opening exhibition of sculpture by Isamu Noguchi, the American-Japanese artist who, in his spare time, dabbles in stage-set and garden designing.
Noguchi explains, "Why do I continuously go back to Japan, except to renew my contact with the earth? There still remains unbroken the familiarity with earthly materials and the skill of Japanese hands. How exquisitely functional are their traditional tools. Soon these, too, will be displaced by the machine. In the meantime I go there like a beggar or thief, seeking the last warmth of the earth." To judge by this collection of work there is no doubt that Noguchi has made successful contact. The combination of the functional and the warm is strongly apparent in his severe, abstract-geometric forms, exquisitely complemented and softened by the beautiful yellow, white, black and rose-coloured marbles: the old master has carved out a dazzling collection of shapes that are perfectly suited to the material used. The unexpected cuts and slices and twists are magnificently managed, giving the illusion of being economic and spare while the sculptures are really exotically rich. They are smartly mounted and displayed in a setting that is corruptingly luxurious, making the achievement of looking intelligently sleek, instead of fashionably slick, all the more remarkable.
Just as wise, if not as opulent, the Annely Juda Gallery is still on the ' NonObjective ' kick, with a restrospective show by the German constructivist, Friedrich Vordemberge-Gildenwart. In love with geometry, he experimented endlessly with combinations and permutations of colour and shape, producing a no-nonsense collection of intellectual paintings that have become familiar enough in style to make you see them with fond recognition. Age has turned these essentially cold exercises into something almost romantic. Willy Rotzler, in the catalogue introduction, writes: "Vordemberge-Gildenwart saw his work almost as a scientific experiment, in any case objective, clear, uncompromising, in which chance played no part. Nothing was created out of momentary impulse, nothing out of personal emotion." That may certainly be consistent with this particular artist's ideas, but there is undeniably something about paint and colour that inspires an emotional reaction to these pictures: some of them are really quite beautiful, if you can let yourself go and relate to a floating triangle or two.
If not, try the Camden Arts Centre, Arkwright Road, and see if you can resist the hodge-podge exhibition called Far Out West, organised by Pamela Kerr, who makes her own particular contribution to the show with photographs, slides, silkscreen prints, and a painting or two that try to make some ironic point about the West as we see it in films and as it really is today. The contradictions of modernity with the myth of the cowboy is not a new theme, but this Englishwoman's love affair with the American West has produced a disarmingly naive and home-made show of memorabilia and pictures exploring the life-style of the Indian and the cowboy. There are some delightful old-time photographs and Indian artefacts on view; and a papier-mache Model Indian, made by a twelve-year-old schoolgirl, has its back to the viewer because, as Pamela Kerr explained, it looks better than way — the back being very strong. Take the kiddies.
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