Line and movement
John McEwen
In the Sixties it was always the summer shows at the Marlborough that provided the climax to the gallery year. Now, in less opulent times, this service is stalwartly continued by the Annely Juda Gallery with its annual midsummer exhibition of the Euro pean pioneers of modern abstract art. This year's survey, 'Line and Movement' (till 29 September) concentrates on the work of artists who, with one exception, formed the influential Dutch movement known as 'de Stijl'. As before, the work accumulated for sale has .been bolstered by some notable loans, and the whole is catalogued to the usual impeccable standard; extracted quotations by the artists themselves serving as a welcome relief from the normal densely informative introduction.
Mention of 'de Stijl' will no doubt make many people reach for their guns because, like its German counterpart the Bauhaus, it has, albeit largely through the efforts of later and lesser men, much to answer for. Any patch of primary colour tarting up a modern block of flats declares the activity of a would-be Van Doesburg in the borough architects department. And in pictures, especially of the sort exhibited on railings or made as a hobby by Hampstead professors, Domela's neo-plastic reliefs in gut and sheets of plexiglas on board have spawned a ghastly progeny. From the constructive element in `de Stijl' has also come much, somewhat more elevated but invariably dreary, painting by numbers and, in architecture, portakabin modulation. It is timely therefore to be forcibly returned to the works of its originators.
'De Stijl' was founded by Mondrian and Van Doesburg. Van Doesburg did the donkey-work but Mondrian was, the star and, fittingly, sufficient of his work has been gathered to ensure that he dominates the present exhibition. Some of it, admittedly, is trival, waste-paper basket stuff that might have been scribbled by anyone, but it is handsomely compensated for by a classic 1921 oil, 'Composition with Great Blue Plane', and some fine drawings that cover the major phases of his post-cubist development.
What distinguishes Mondrian from Van, Doesburg is that first and foremost he is a painter. Such an extraordinary one that he has altered our view of Dutch art in general and even of our topographical awareness of Holland as a place, through the progressive concentration of his imagery. Thanks to him we consider Vermeer second only to Rembrandt, and every cinelogue of the Netherlands opens with an aerial view of a framework of dykes dividing gaudy tulip fields. Mondrian's pictures have become the essence of Holland: the grid of its resurrected coastal plains, the orderliness of its brick-paved towns.
His art is the inherent geometry of its most dispassionate painting laid bare. Here is Professor Gowing on 'The Love Letter': 'In the bare and perfect design two characteristic creatures meet at last, in the centre the standing maidservant, carved as simply as a pillar, exerting her gentle government over the space around, and before her the bell-like lady, engrossed in herself. They are the poles of Vermeer's world, revealed in their complementary character and held together in equilibrium. There is no impact, no drama: the balance is unshakable. It is a weighing of vertical against horizontal. In the square lines of this design there is made visible a reconciliation. The geometric furniture of life has come to share its nature: attended, as by judicious counsellors, by the long planes of hanging drapery, leaning inward one against the other, life and geometry stand together, made as one, perfectly still.' Cut of figurative props this could be a description of any truly neoplastic Mondrian and, of course, it knowingly draws on the mysticism of that theosophically based doctrine.
Here is Mondrian: 'Psychological and social consequences of neo-plasticism: Bal ance through the equivalenbe of nature and mind, of that which is individual and that which is universal, of the feminine and the masculine — this general principle of neoplasticism can be achieved not only in plastic art, but also in man and society. In society the equivalence of what relates to matter and what relates to mind can create a har mony beyond anything hitherto known.' Mondrian wisely held to painting. Painting has more to do with buttering bread than reading books.
Mondrian's art was so resolutely and thoroughly achieved, so absolute, that the other members of 'de Stijl' could do little more than play under his metaphorical table. Lacking his obscure but total spiritual conviction, they dallied like Bart van der Leck between figuration and abstraction or turned to decoration and the applied arts.
The diagonal is the surest mark of a designconscious mind at work-everythingis always at an angle in prim-and-proper homes—and Van Doesburg accordingly diagonalised Mondrian in a vulgar attempt to create a greater sense of dynamism. Domela went two or three genteel steps further in a supposedly architectural direction. All of this is admirably exemplified by the works of the three artists in the exhibition, who share the upstairs rooms with that jack-ofall-trades Moholy-Nagy. The downstairs gallery is dedicated solely to the paintings of two rather different 'de Stijl' members: the Belgian Georges Vantongerloo and the German Vordemberge-Gildewart. Vantongerloo IS better known as a sculptor. His pictures are as neatly notated as musical scores, his views on art no less succinct: 'Poetry and Music belong to time, Architecture, SculP' ture and Painting belong to space.' He is well represented. Vfordemberge' Gildewart's text-book abstraction is redeemed by the occasional evidence of a lingering allegiance to El Lissitisky, his earliest inspiration, which would seem to have remained at odds with his later, rather functional, interpretation of abstract prim' ciples. , 'The Tolly Cobbold/Eastern Arts, 2nd National Exhibition' (Camden Arts Centre till 9 September) is to the East what the John Moores Exhibition is to the North: a pictorial biennial 'Open', with cash prizes to the sum of £7500 and nothing to beat but a committee of art-world celebrities. The show opened at the Fitzwilliam Museum in April. Whether it will ever match the John Moores in importance seems unlikelY, though these are early days. At present its lesser scale appears to have similarly diminished the scope of the entry. The character of the show is that of a secondarY John Moores, confined for the most part to competent artists in early middle-age on the look-out for a break into the big-time. Still, it is worthwhile — as any cash. carrying exhibition must be — and Tally Cobbold are to be congratulated on every altruistic penny of their sponsorship. This year's winners were depressinglY predictable to anyone with the slightest interest in contemporary art. The selectors obviously endeavoured to cover most pie' tonal genres in their choice, but the names remained the same. Another group of Pril: winners would have served just as wel and been no less predictable. Many of the artists on view are of a sufficient maturity have forged a style. If they stick to it, evei1.!! they retain their names, their numbers wi!J come up. Such is the benefit of being big fistl in a small pond. For Bergman, CaniPe' Green, Naylor and Webb, therefore, fh message is, keep socking on and if possible secure an East Anglian passport befofse,5 1981. Nothing else can explain Colin Sel winning a general, as well as a local-boY, award this time.
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