Fidel A. Danieli

  • “Non-Figurative Art”

    One expects the innocent primitives, frustrated designers, tech­nical tricksters, copyists, and simple non-entities would have again crawled out of the woodwork for another festival of stylistic mish-mosh. But at least the quality of this juried show is relatively above the median average. Honest indi­vidual efforts may be difficult to spot, but recommended conditionally as standouts are: North Young’s untitled, odd, flottage; the carved ceramic Swinging Figures of Laurette Sping­arn; Aimee Bourdieu’s lively Suspen­sion; and Bob Kennicott’s watercolor Air Borne. Most of the rest grope about in

  • Gallery Group

    A di­verting show of the gallery stable’s paintings and sculptures which range from the historically respectable to the inconsequential. The former include Feitelson and Lundeberg (a tiny, mar­velous “Dark Sea”), Burkhardt (in a new direction, loosening Gorky’s shapes with Yunkers’ bruised color), and Schwaderer (as primitive as ever). Block’s encaustic-­like, bleached intimism and Bosworth’s accidental, oriental air-views are curious, individual and memorable, but probably (along with Frame) caught in a cul-de-sac. In a preview of Goedike’s one-man show we find he has moved the models abandoned

  • Edward Bush

    Bush has had some formal art training––that’s apparent––but either too much or not enough. Every move is that of a rank amateur with abundant failings. His paintings are involved with, and the victims of: more than four differing styles completely dependent upon clever tool manipulation; an absolute lack of drawing and composing skills; an awkward collection of meaningless sur­face gimmicks; simple-minded, two-layered spatial interests; and color which has all the sensuous charm of a plastic leatherette sample book. Surprisingly, one facet would seem to hold promise of more “professional” results,

  • Janet Lippincott

    Rarely has a one-man show looked so aware yet neuter, casual, and so con­vincing. She is involved with symbol making that simply refuses to jell, for her images are too weak to hold up under the steady barrage of disparate elements. Ineffectual, overcontrolled ac­cidents clog structure, and axes are re-enforced  to a point of uncertainty. Spatial intentions are denied by violent color contrasts. Areas are drowned in a nonsensical rhythm of “enriching” tool marks, and ill-sorted alterations of inconsistent style disrupt and mar the unity of almost every picture.

    The gallery’s folder informs that

  • Irma Attridge

    “Featuring various treatments of the Still Life” has an ominous, non­committal ring, and it means Attridge ranges from realism to loosened cub­ism. The McFee Cézannesque tradition is the unmistakable controlling factor, with the results minor and competently pat in a detached and illustrative man­ner. The slick oil impasto is built to suggest the vibrations of light particles requiring considerable viewing distance for the limited, facile technique to settle.

    The more advanced stages of her heavy pink and chartreuse cubism run a feminine second place behind Still Life with Orange and another .