Peter Startup
John McEwen
The second of the Arts Council's 'New Work exhibitions is on view at the Hayward Gallery till January 4. It's the last, as far as one can see, so this is an appropriate time to consider the enterprise as a whole. Let's have more of them. Let them also signal the end of 'committee' shows, except where research or international exchange make it impossible. The disparity of age and style in these present shows reflected the wholesome prejudice of individuals. Unfortunately, showing at. the Hayward is still a special honour for British artists and it's a pity that a• sudden change of plan should have elevated twelve at the expense of so many others. The inevitable poor attendance must. not deter the Arts Council from making the enterprise permanent. Meanwhile the Tate might consider something of the same in 1976. At present they have only the Constable show fixed.
This second show, with which we shall have to make do at present, was . similar in its shortcomings to the first, though of a higher technical standard. Again most of the practitioners on view seemed to have fallen victim to the glamour of 'fine Art,' of 'being an artist.' Nothing else can explain such misapplied talent, often, I know, sustained at considerable personal cost. John Ashworth is an excellent machine toolmaker, but to lavish such expertise on mere decoration is profligate. Bryan Kneale's another fine craftsman in steel, but he persists in making "public sculpture" when he knows that such a thing as a creative idea, ceased to exist with the passing of Bernini. Victor Newsome's sterile bathroom interiors are faultless exercises in the application of acrylic paint to wood, but to no foreseeable artistic end. Trevor Halliday has confused size with content. His paintings are bewildering. Only exhibitionism can explain such a public display of uncertainty. Gerald Newman takes us one 'conceptual' remove from home-movies by writing the sunset bit and only leaving on the sound, birdsong thankfully. As for Malcolm Hughes, whose systematic researches have led unavoidably to the softer options of teaching, committees and good works, how about this for self-satisfaction — pinned to the wall at the entrance. "They (his paintings etc) are no more (or less) conceptually original than 1VIorandi's still-life objects (or Cezanne's cherished `Sainte Victoire') are perceptually original." Ahem. What a relief therefore after the severity of all this anonymous academicism to find Nicholas Monro's flight of pea-green fibreglass waiters. At least it's good fora laugh, especially from behind, and a lot more to the public taste than Bryan Kneale's endeavour through the windows. But what makes the show is the inclusion of Peter Startup who, at fifty three, hasn't had an exhibition in London for seven years.
Startup's work is about reflection as most of the titles make clear. There is usually a shape supported on a table element, its reflection contained by the legs below. The materials are wood, plaster and compressed paper — the wood often painted over to make it blank. The 'wood's just junk picked up at random, the newspaper cast from printers' flongs. Sometimes the type's legible but that doesn't matter. Using newspapers in this way emphasises the element of time inherent in reflection. Newspapers reflect the continuous passage of time, as so a shadow cast by a sundial or the rings in a pool of water. The unchanged shapes of the scrapwood direct the overall shape of the piece. The simplicity of the materials matches that of the contrivance. They are themselves to be reflected upon. Pure sculpture in the classical sense, manipulations of space and volume to touch off something in the viewer's own experience. Sliced, stubbily painted, smooth clayed and rough xVooded they are immediately desirable objects but bear a lot of study. Such assurance is hard won. Whoever chose him deserves promotion.
Previous page
