Exhibitions
Avigdor Arikha (Marlborough Fine Art till 29 October) Celia Paul (Bernard Jacobson till 11 October) William Macllraith (Connaught Brown 01111 October) Mark Harris (Juda-Rowan till 11 October)
Dark areas
Alistair Hicks
Conservative critics have hailed Arikha's rejection of abstract painting in 1965 as a turning point. The story of the following eight years when he gave up painting and drew from life is almost part of folklore, but the debate over his work has thankfully moved on from the old ab- stract/figurative division. Robert Hughes writes, 'What intrigues us most in drawing today is the spectacle of eye and brain struggling to agree.' Arikha's drawings often seduce us, but his work can repel. It is more radical than it appears. His emotions are patently not always in tune with his intellect.
Arikha paints quickly so that he can seize what he sees without style interven- ing. Back in 1960 he was so impressed by the way Velasquez's paint looked to be `blown on in one breath' that he made many studies from 'Las Meninas'. He is not normally interested in painting from mem- ory or under the influence of other paint- ings. 'Art', he says, `comes between people and reality.' As an art historian and curator this makes life extremely difficult for him and helps explain the intense fury with which he paints. It induces a state of `unknowing'. 'To me,' he told Maurice Tuchman, 'art expresses the dark area, which is the otherwise unexpressed area.'
Despite his protestations, Arikha's deep knowledge of art history affects his work in many surprising ways. Direct comparisons with Ingres and Poussin about whom he has written so extensively may not yield much, but the brushstrokes in 'Seated Nude with Mirror' (1985) and 'The Black Shawl' (1983) are close to those in David's `Madame Recamier' and 'Madame Chal- grin'. His years as an abstract painter, however, have had a greater impact on his confrontational painting. 'Self Portrait with Outstretched Arm' breaks all rules of traditional composition with its harsh hori- zontals and verticals, yet Modrian has prepared our eyes for it. The intensity of `White Shirt' (1985) is that of Malevich and Ryman. The subject matter is invariably ordinary, but Arikha manages not only to question what is seen, but open up the battle between head and heart. Occa- sionally the sensual texture of pastel or his uncompromising gaze claim victory for one side or other, but the intellect is never crushed and his feelings rarely tamed.
London isn't renowned for giving young painters a chance, so it is good to see that three galleries have shows of promising painters. Celia Paul's 'Family Group' has caused a considerable stir. Its obvious resemblance to Lucian Freud's much talked about 'Large Interior W11 (after Watteau)' (1981/82), her relationship with Freud and the painting's purchase by the Saatchis have given Cork Street its fair share of gossip, but her work is far from being totally derivative. She uses paint literally to build up a very different mood. Some of the work shown is not up to her own exacting standards, but the power of the drawings and the successful, worked canvases possess a startling maturity for a painter of only 26.
William McIlraith is even younger than Paul. His dark satanic paintings, from which struggling figures emerge dwarfed by looming machinery, show the depth of British painting. They pay tribute to Auer- bach, Walker and Setch. Fluid use of paint and encaustics, ability to keep the viewer's interest in the paint and a thorough pursuit of a theme are fast becoming British hallmarks. Macfiraith has his own com- manding coherence. The subject of man's relationship with machinery has intrigued several painters, but none has reduced it to such stark but still inconclusive terms.
Mark Harris has few connections with either Macllraith or Paul, or indeed with many other young British painters. The Futurists leap to mind as soon as the bright swirling colours are seen. His compositions consist of painted cut-out paper sometimes on raw canvas. They look like Boccionis fired further through Pollock's vision. For all this, there is a sense that the artist is about to take us further.
The new book Arikha, with its essays, poems and interviews by such luminaries as Samuel Beckett, Robert Hughes and Andre Fermigier, is as much about art and the state of art as the painter. It is like an art bible; there is something for everybody. Within it Barbara Rose, in an article of 1969, talks of a cultural crisis anticipated by the Spanish philosopher Jose Ortega y Gasset. She quotes: 'An historical crisis occurs when the world, the system of convictions belonging to a previous genera- tion, gives way to a vital state in which man remains without these convictions and therefore without a world.' Few would disagree that Arikha has made a healthy and highly considered response to a crisis. The encouraging sign is that the next generation are doing the same in very diverse ways.
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