Elizabeth M. Polley

  • Warren Brandon, Richard Heidsiek, Six Spanish Printmakers, and Helen Breger

    Brandon’s semi-abstrac­tions of bridges and ships are both colorful and decorative. Heidsiek’s wa­tercolors of a rather ethereal Mexico represent a very personal interpretation, seemingly filtered through Feininger and Shahn.

    It is the printmakers who make this an outstanding month at the Crocker. The Spaniards, Julio Zachrisson, Jose Vento, Marcel Yrizarry, Francisco Echauz, Julio Martin-Caro and Angelo Medina, are all from Madrid. The spirit of Goya is the catalyst that binds their strongly individualistic styles into a unified group—the Goya that wrote “The Sleep of Reason brings forth Monsters”

  • Milton Komisar

    Komisar, who has just won a $2,000 award from the Louis C. Tiffany Foundation, is the second artist of the Venus Group to present a one-man show, his first. The quality is high.

    Komisar is a figurative painter with definite thoughts on the place of man in the urban art which is today’s en­vironment, thoughts which he some­times projects through the figure of his dog, Harry, much in the manner of the novelist, Jack London. Harry Some­times Dreams of Far Off Places is the literary title of one of his paintings­—a blue shepherd dog stands at the win­dow in a dark and richly-hued blue room, staring

  • David Park

    A memorial exhibition of 39 paintings from the last five years of Park’s life, when he was on the faculty of the University of California (1955–1960). Many are from collections of friends, and among them are some that Park would probably have deleted. But there is something of the cult of a personality connected with him, (there was even before his death) that seemingly makes everything he did or said inordinately important here. The sudden burgeoning of what at first appeared to be not much more than a mediocre talent when he was painting goopy abstractions into an astonishingly inventive artist

  • Ernie Kim, Sung Woo Kim, John Richards, and John Battenberg

    Ceramic bowls and boxes, Mandala paintings, diagrammatic painting and bronze allegorical sculptures that reflect influences from medieval Asia and the Age of Flight.

    Kim was head of the ceramics department at the San Francisco Art Institute before joining the faculty of the Richmond Art Center. He has long been involved in teaching, and because of the constant discipline enforced upon an instructor he has run the calculated risk of becoming academic. He has pretty well skirted this hazard because of an inordinate sensitivity to the uses and abuses of color and by means of subtle manipulation of

  • Richard Schoenhoff

    Schoenhoff is one of ten 1964 MFA recipients from the University of California who opened a cooperative gallery in September with a rather weak group exhibition. One-man shows, of which this is the first, will, one hopes, separate the chaff from the grain. Schoenhoff is not apt to be the first discard. His drawings are exceptionally strong—although in the “Implex” series they are much too direct in approach to justify the title even in a mathematical sense. A bold, Kline-ish calligraphy does create a limited system of surfaces, but greater complication is needed to fulfill the meaning of the

  • “The Immortal Eight”

    43 paintings by members of the Ashcan School. This major exhibition of works by the still controversial Eight, assembled and circulated by the Museum of Modern Art, is beginning its tour at a historic old museum which was once the mansion of E. B. Crocker and as such the center of Northern California's social and cultural life. It seems a fitting place for the take-off. The Eight are wholly in character with the Sacramento of their time—they possess the same lusty virility, combining clumsy gaucherie with bravura and, at times, a touch of greatness which probably would have met a more sympathetic

  • Fred Martin

    Martin combines watercolor, collage, pencil line and script into pictures that are mystic messages as well as decorations. He chooses his subjects from nature and passages of poetry or philosophical prose, but which item stimulates the selection of the other is part of the intriguing mystery that makes his work so tantalizing. Whatever the procedure, when Martin finishes with a composition it becomes not only a visual delight but a gem of thought. His show at Lanyon is small, and has been carefully selected from four years of continuous work. In it he proclaims his deep interest in art as the

  • Bernice Bing and Margot Campbell

    Bernice Bing, born in San Francisco’s Chinatown, has been living at the Mayacamas Vineyards this past year, and is just beginning to come to terms with the rugged landscape there. Her 12 paintings, selected from 20 recently completed, are something of a biography. The earliest works, though competently painted, are completely detached views of the expanse of valley from a mountain top—lifeless, without the foil of a figure. But in #12 and #13, done in October and November of 1963, Miss Bing begins to see the landscape as environment, and to enjoy it as such. She loses the dry, still-life-of-mountains

  • Barbara Spring

    Mrs. Springs wooden foods bespeak the little girl who used rocks and roots as playhouse foods, and, growing up, retained a sharp eye for food associations in natural objects. She also retained a sense of humor and enough courage to indulge her seeing eye. She has no inhibitions about her concern with food—as a wife and mother she must deal with it constantly.

    Her show here comprises sculpture and assemblages of wood burls, knots and roots which have been selected and refined into the shapes of common food item—hams, hot dogs, cakes, cookies, bottles of cola drink, even vitamin capsules—then

  • Bryan Wilson, Ruth Horsting, Galerie de Tours Group

    Wilson, one of Gump’s regular exhibitors, is also an ornithologist, which gives his paintings of bird life an air of authenticity. But unlike such predecessors as Audubon, Wilson does not dwell upon detail. Nor does he merely catalog fact. With a minimum of means he depicts the life of birds and small animals in their natural habitat, depending upon characteristic gesture and shape for identification of species.

    Wilson is a master of placement. He foregoes aerial and linear perspective in favor of the Oriental’s climbing perspective, and in doing so gives his forms a dramatic and pleasing

  • “New Faces”

    Wilbur Curtis, Dwight Eberly, Jane Garritson, Jean Kalisch, Helen Landgraff, Gary Rogers, Frances Velasco Shinn and Don Yee are introduced with several recent works each, although for several of them this is not a first show.

    Landgraff paints flags, to the point of chauvinism; Yee follows Gregory Kondos’ “bluish landscapes” and does it well; Curtis shows competent abstracts; Rogers is morbidly interested in vomit stains in grape-juice purple; Eberly’s Populated Silence, a sfumati rub-out reminiscent of Leonardo’s unfinished works, is spoiled by a too-glossy surface; Kalisch continues her house-top

  • Alexander Nepote, James D. Estey, and Ruth Rippon

    Nepote has won an enviable number of awards in both oils and watercolors, and has done so without having changed either style or subject matter to any great extent for more than a decade.

    The development of his present idiom was gradual. At first concerned with the scarred and tattered facades of abandoned buildings in the Mother Lode ghost towns, he abstracted them to near decorations, using wonderfully transparent water-color washes or black-lined oil stains. Yet he was seemingly frustrated by an inability to penetrate the subject. Then, he discovered the alpine level of the Sierra Nevada, with