Arthur Secunda

  • John Bernhardt (1921–1963)

    THROUGHOUT HIS RICHLY CREATIVE LIFE, John Bernhardt sought out the “bones” and the “skeletons” of all things, whether they had to do with people, paint, machines, ideas, or his own complex relationship to his environment. In the still hour of the night, when most people are too tired to think, he pondered heav­ily on the nature of things, their reality and their meaning. He never stopped marvelling at life, probing beneath the skim of superficial acceptability and appearances. His intellectual curiosity was as insa­tiable as it was perceptive; and he had no false illu­sions about his profound

  • Rico Lebrun, An Interview

    Q: I want to talk to you about how you feel living here—why did you come back from Italy this last trip? How did you feel in Yale? Why are you here and do you feel part of the California scene?

    Lebrun: Things were difficult at Yale—too much snow, and too much Josef Albers. To have him a visiting critic in my classes turned out to be an unfair situation of which I had not been warned when I accepted the assignment, mostly because of the havoc it raised with the pupils. Surprisingly enough for a man of such aloof ideas in painting, on this particular occasion he behaved like a general in the Prussian

  • Aage Pedersen

    This Danish-American artist seems to have woven rather than drawn or printed his mysteriously organic black and white monoprints. He is a surrealist in sheep’s clothing, crucifying a doilied Jesus on a candy-box valentine cross of old lace. His work records evidence of the patterns in a clock, an apron, a flower, a tablecloth; the voluptuous allegory, in fact, of almost anything that has an actual or implied decorative order. Pedersen’s subject matter is created from the imagery inherent in humble decorative folk patterns (common objects).

    “A pattern is a thing,” says the dictionary, “so ideal

  • Group Show

    Though this mixed-media group exhibition of Polish and Russian works ranging from the late 19th century through contemporary times is of uneven quality, several examples stand out notably. Among them are genre paintings from the School of Repin and by N. Grandkowski executed around the turn of the century, the cubist and impressionist paintings of E. Reinhold and J. Eckert, and the loose watercolors of W. Zych and F. Polec. By far the most interesting to the contemporary eye is the “art brut” nonfigurative work of Wanda Paklikowska-Winnicka. Painted in rich impasto relief, Miss P-Winnicka’s

  • Group Show

    The dark, wistful black and white landscape of Jack Simcock, the strange, carefully glazed still-lifes of Yves Ganne, and the vibrant expressionist oils of Christian Title, easily stand out as the most interesting works in an exhibition of better than average quality for this gallery.

    Arthur Secunda

  • Group Show

    Not much logic or meaning or consistency of performance in this exhibit of works by Max Band, Jorgen Hansen, Ruth Erlich, Ted Gilian, Al Wien, James McMennamin, Marc du Plantier and Alice Asmar, but a surprising number of serious essays are nevertheless present. More careful and sensitive planning and editing in the selection of the show would have made it one of more memorable substance.

  • Group Show

    Featuring a half-dozen or so artists of ordinary talent, the work of Paul Jasmin is emphasized in this exhibition of popular tastes. Jasmin is fun, decorative, tightly detailed, figure-illustrationful, ingratiating, and harmless.

    Arthur Secunda

  • James Hueter

    The drawings and bronze and clay sculpture of this sensitive artist are concerned with the elusive aspects of figure imagery, such as the drama inherent in the subtle turn of a torso, a poignant gesture, and the elemental movements of limbs rising or tilting. There is an electrical sensuousness in the surface textures of his figures which displays a tremendous formal discipline. Hueter’s attitude is, in turn, classical and romantic. Without being eclectic, his sculpture strangely combines the grace of, say, Nadelman, with that of Giacometti, producing evocative and mystical images of serenity

  • Group Exhibition

    Featuring paintings by Ray Campbell, Jonathan Scott, Alexander Nepote, Burr Singer, Aimee Bourdieu and Mabel Al­varez, this small group show offers sev­eral choice examples within the modest but perfectly valid confines of the gal­lery’s conservative penchant. Two paint­ings are of particular note: Nepote’s vigorous early seascape, executed with broad, sure strokes and cool, singing colors, and Miss Alvarez’s rich bouquet­like genre entitled Flower-sellers, iri­descent in its refined sumptuousness and subtle glow.

  • “Some Aspects of Surrealism”

    Surrealism is based upon the dream, the irrational and the fantastic. Nevertheless, the most striking common feature of the artists represented in this modest but significant exhibition, is neo-romanticism. Further, from the vantage point of 1962, the purported literal illogicality of objects represented together in one context no longer appears either as illogical or as important as it must have decades ago. DeChirico’s Il Trovatore is as solid as a Mantegna and as Classic as a David; Picabia’s extraordinarily emotional Personnages could be mistaken for an important pre-World War I Kandinsky;

  • Robert Loberg

    Explosive configurations, organic in their frozen placement, occupy deep space in the large-scale collage-paintings of Robert Loberg. Decorative textural stripes, bars, screens, etc., are torn and collated in such a way as to momentarily disguise their original identities. The feverish high state of emotion that ensues is intense, powerful and dramatic, and if there is a weakness it is in this overstatement, this super-magnification of too much while saying too little. Hence, the poster-like quality of these frenetic statements appears to work better in contexts of poster scale rather than

  • Arthur Oka­mura

    Large panoramic expanses of desolate, wind-swept landscapes are occasionally populated by a sparse figure in the highly romantic paintings of Okamura. The artist is best when he is most abstract, i.e., most removed from Barbizonesque naturalism. He can wield a skillful brush and swoop a mean series of rococo curves when he wants to, as in Ryder, Coleridge and Shadows. Here, the texture of his pigment is varied, along with the mood of the form he is describing, and his pearly rendering of flight seems to be a special pictorial device all his own. Too many of the pictures, however, are banal in