Andrew Forge

  • Painting and the Struggle for the Whole Self

    COMING AS I DO FROM London, where the sidewalks are called “pavements” and are made of neatly joined, level flagstones, the roughly poured, broken, unpatterned concrete that one walks on in New York is always affecting. My sense of the whole city is colored by that thin, random-seeming covering, a mere temporary shell thrown over the sand and mud which the ancient rocks that jut out of the grass in Central Park seem savagely to ignore. These fissured, pitted sidewalks are treacherous. I keep my eyes down. At the same time I am surrounded by buildings and an ever-changing panorama of reflections.

  • On Giacometti

    Giacometti’s importance has been obscured and distorted by the myth that surrounds him, a myth which has been to some extent nourished by the ambiguous nature of his own writings. This article, occasioned by the recent retrospective at the Guggenheim Museum, is a tentative attempt to look at both work and myth at a tangent from each other. Such an enterprise may not appear topical to readers of Artforum; however the conviction here is that it is an urgent necessity. Giacometti is an artist of the first rank.

    “HERE IS THE LIST OF sculptures that I promised you, but I could not make it without

  • Erotic Art of the West

    Robert Melville, Erotic Art of the West (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1973), 318 pages, 30 colorplates, over 200 black-and-white illustrations.

    ROBERT MELVILLE HAS BEEN WORKING on this study intermittently for many years. The guiding motto of his text is provided by certain lines from Baudelaire’s Salons in which the poet adumbrates an imaginary Museum of Love. Here

    there would be a place for everything, from S. Theresa’s undirected affections down to the serious debaucheries of the ages of ennui. No doubt an immense distance separates Le Depart pour l’île de Cythère from the miserable daubs

  • Gabo at the Tate

    NAUM GABO’S EXHIBITION AT THE TATE has had something of the air of a triumphal home-coming. He has had a special relationship with England. His remove here from Paris coincided with an important shift in his own thinking, for it was in around 1936 that his intuitions about the “spheric” nature of space began to crystallize. His first visit here in 1935 had been in connection wit h an exhibition of continental avant-garde art, the first to show Mondrian, Arp, Giacometti and a whole lot of others whose work had only beer known in reproduction or on the odd visit to Paris. Gabo liked what he found

  • London

    Before the event it looked a disaster that the Giacometti retrospective here should have clashed with the one in New York. But in fact neither exhibition seems to have suffered—the most important unique work, the Museum of Modern Art’s “Palace at 4 am.,” was in any case too fragile to have traveled to London. What the double event proved, to most people’s surprise, was the massive scale of Giacometti’s output, even allowing for the fact that much of the work is cast. He was himself delighted by the coincidence of the two exhibitions and one almost felt that it had convinced him of something

  • Some New British Sculptors

    IT HAS BEEN SCULPTURE MONTH in London: the Contemporary Art Society, working in conjunction with the Stuyvesant Foundation, has staged a vast exhibition which, as the title suggests, reviews the entire sculptural scene here. “British Sculpture in the Sixties” is in two parts: the established names at the Tate and nine new-generation sculptors at Whitechapel, of whom the oldest, Philip King, is 31.

    The Tate exhibition is a massive resume of what has been acclaimed officially and internationally as British sculpture. It is of course dominated qualitatively by Henry Moore and Barbara Hepworth, and