Exhibitions 1
Summer Exhibition (Royal Academy, till 7 August)
Accent on change
Andrew Lambirth
The RA Summer Exhibition is with us once again, still phenomenally popular with the general public despite the relentless mockery and disparagement of the nation's art critics. This is the 232nd summer show, but the institution wears its age lightly. This Y, ear's display is marked by what has become the accustomed mixture of conti- nuity and change, with the accent perhaps More firmly than ever on change. The .RA iti,,s a new president, the sculptor Philip 1,irlg, a man determined to lead a strong Academy into the future. He is not only a PePular leader, but behind him also resides a substantial power base of sculptor-Aca- demicians of the international weight and reputation of Paolozzi, Cragg, Kapoor and beacon. It is more than likely that we will see substantial changes within the Acade- my m the next few years; in the meantime, the Summer Exhibition presents a compro- mise — the warmth of its traditional char- acteristics qualified by a starker, more consciously musly modernistic approach. Exhibition With over 1,150 exhibits, the Summer ..xhibition is still the largest open exhibition in Britain though the Academicians who select and hang it complain that the stan- dard of submissions is even lower this year than last (which was bad enough). Many the It as a priority to convince young artists f at the exhibition is a first-rate showcase hat heir work. Anthony Green, senior 13nger of this year and thus in charge of.the th-,,,r -- %lg. hanging committee (he defines Position as being like long stop in a ere' gomket match, making sure nothing really uoorti slips past), says, 'Artists who don't to 'bniallY like the Summer Exhibition ought by be Made aware of the fact that a difficult b,ettire hung here might actually be bought c;',sPillebody. We act as mediator between ,,v'ticult artwork and timid artatron. And als° encourage the timid ist to send in. One of our roles is to enable artists.'
From the moment you step into the courtyard of Burlington House, change is evident. The new-look piazza is still being remodelled with granite paving stones, cob- bles and fountains, but it already displays to advantage a massive wooden railway- truck sculpture by Eduardo Paolozzi. Inside the RA, there are bronze maquettes for this project in Gallery I, together with a memorial display to the sculptor Michael Kenny, and paintings by distinguished Honorary RAs such as Baselitz, Twombly and Kiefer. Gallery I is traditionally hung by the president, and there's a strong sculp- ture showing here — beside Paolozzi and Kenny, there's interesting work by William Tucker, Bryan Kneale and Nigel Hall.
Anthony Green, who volunteered to accompany me round the show with live commentary, has dubbed this a 'Year of Sculpture', not least because one gallery (the Lecture Room) is devoted to the work of the internationally acclaimed abstract artist Frank Stella, and includes three vast metal sculptures made from crushed tanker trucks. But there are paintings a-plenty in most of the other galleries. 'Gallery II is an overtly modernist hang,' intones Green, sur- veying the largely abstract images upon the walls. He singles out the distorted reflec- tions of Brendan Neiland, currently keeper of the Academy, the memorably inventive images of Paul Huxley and the 'archaic' fig- ure sculptures of Allen Jones. We pass swiftly on to the adjacent Print Room.
The Large Weston Room contains hun- dreds of examples of different techniques of printmaking. Craigie Aitchison is repre- sented by three luminous screenprints, for one of which, a beautiful yellow Crucifix- ion, he has been awarded a prize. Anthony Green is drawn to the monotypes of Chris Le Brun, the etchings of ex-RA student Bella Easton, and an oval screenprint and woodblock by Bert Irvin. 'The Print Room is full of black and white, and yet this year it seems as though there's more colour than we're used to. There are things by great artists, by famous artists, by infamous artists. Over there's a Jim Dine, here's a lithograph by R.B. Kitaj, while Ivor Abra- hams is wrestling with pictorial space via his computer — the wildest experiments that you can think of are here on the walls in the Print Room.'
Leading off is the Small Weston Room, once smothered with little pictures from floor to ceiling, but now more selectively hung by Green himself, a senior hanger's indulgence. He waxes lyrical over its charms: 'Patrick Procktor has a wonderful wall of watercolours: skilfully done, quiet and very dignified. Here's a picture of an ashtray of dead matches — everyone's got a relative who smokes too much — this is a small realistic tour-de-force. Ansel Krut's paintings remind you of Goya, in which funny things with dogs and buttocks and bosoms are going on. Paintings which if you caught them on a bad night in your liv- ing-room would probably stop you sleeping for a week.'
Green continues: 'I would draw your attention to the more traditional pictures of plants and flowers, and landscapes and interiors' [Gallery IX is also particularly rich in these], 'where the touch is all- important, where the artist has lovingly caressed the paint into the surface with brush or finger; devalued techniques which are considered to be old-fashioned now, and yet in a sense are timeless. Pictures of lemons, cacti, landscapes in Herefordshire — all sorts of things which the public love. We need not take home a dose of angst: come to the Summer Exhibition and take home a painting that will make you feel you can live for ever, that your spirituality has been massaged in velvet.'
Not yet a third of the way round the exhibition and I've nearly reached my word limit, but the summer show's like that vast, sprawling, abrupt with changes of pace. There are hectic bazaar-like galleries and quiet corners. Anthony Green calls Pyramid, Sphere, Cube, 1999, in oak and in charcoal, by David Nash RA Gallery III, for instance, 'the Turbine Hall of Burlington House', full of set pieces, where he focuses on Leonard Rosoman's Drag Ball scene from John Osborne's play A Patriot for Me, and the memorial group to Norman Blarney (`the quintessential Academic artist, and by that I mean a man who could paint and draw like a god').
Elsewhere, Peter Blake has progressed his concept-hang of amateur painters, densely covering the walls of Gallery VII, while making space for a memorial tribute to Josef Herman. In telling contrast, Tony Cragg has dispensed with clutter in Gallery VIII, the sculpture room, allowing space for each exhibit to breathe. Among the other treats are a wall of Adrian Berg land- scapes in the Central Hall, a six-part sculp- ture and drawing installation by David Nash, destined for the Tate, a couple of Rowlandson-like painted bent-tin sculp- tures by Neil Jeffries (`the master of sug- gestive mystery', says Green), an exquisite run of small oddly shaped paintings by Jef- fery Camp, and two arresting images by Ken Kiff, pondering the very stuff and out- look of modernism. Quite evidently, the Academy has more to offer than those who deride it will ever allow.
An exhibition of Anthony Green's recent works is at the Piccadilly Gallery, 43 Dover Street, W1 until 30 June.
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