ART
Tunnels of Love
HE number of large works by Hepworth in I her current show at Gimpel Fits and the nature of this sculpture turn a medium-sized gallery into a tunnel of love: you get physically drawn into these extraordinarily subtle spiralling holes and cavitie:, and at the end of a visit it's impossible not to apprehend the superbly disci- plined generosity and sensuality which illumin- ates everything in sight. It is a great treat to see work, of this majestic order, that is so plainly the result of love: obsessive, and always gaining in formal strength. Hepworth's triumph is all the more impressive because an even larger show of her carvings and bronzes only recently closed in New York; shortly before that a vast retrospective assembly was held at the Krtiller Midler Museum in Holland; and all this pursued and seen through, to the last perfectionist detail, against a back- ground of grave illness from which the artist has only just begun to recover. This is no secret, and
I make no apology for referring to background circumstances.
Hepworth's progress has been relentlessly pure, kept to a central set of beliefs. and is still advanc- ing. Recent carvings in a wide range of materials from cool Carrara marble to tough Roman stone and ambiguous black native slate all show a gain in muscularity, concentration—and a new edgy element of disruption, just discernible. There is no complacency here, though the drawings are inclined to slightness. But who cares in the face of such sculptural grandeur?
By now Hepworth's ethos and the forms she manipulates should be familiar to everyone as a great contribution to modern art. Its warm, robust qualities make Much of the younger artists' work seem sloppy and easy by (unfair) compari- son. Many years ago, this artist and 1 had a row over some fiddling point of installation. After sulking in our tents for a couple of days. we met and uneasily settled our differences. There was still awkwardness in the air: later, we shared a taxi to a restaurant at the end of an exhausting working day. Ending a long silence I compli- mented her on her perfume, which 1 liked, and asked its name. Bandit, said Miss Hepworth, rather icily, then grinned. There was a moment of mutual recognition. I hope a large public well sense the strength and invention, and total in- dependence, in her new work, as well as the warmth and drama of her carvings in what is supposed to be cold marble. Just touch it. and you'll get the message.
There is also a lot of love and sheer delight in the modest show of paintings and drawings by John Craxton at the Leicester Galleries. This artist was miles ahead of his generation back in the 'forties, in references to modern art which included MirO—unappreciated in England at the time. Since then his paintings of Greece and Crete seem occasionally to have marked time, but you cannot suppress a talent of this order for long. The tall, vertical paintings of water rushing over rocks invoke Byzantine art as well as Greek folk art, and open up fresh possibilities. The assurance and discretion of the show, e.g.. lack of inflation, are tonic—an objective, and decora- tive, vision.
The huge new Moore at the open-air sculpture show makes everything else seem trivial: it's called Three Way Piece (Points) and it's worth travelling to Battersea in order to consider, for an hour or so, an absolute masterpiece.
BRYAN ROBERTSON
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