Jane Livingston

  • Allan Kaprow

    The Pasadena Art Museum’s exhibition of work by Allan Kaprow from 1953 to ’63 will probably not be recalled by many as an especially spirited or provocative event. That it fails to generate lively curiosity, if not among local artists and amateurs at least for the larger public, has greater significance in this instance than it might ordinarily. Of all manners of artists, Kaprow is one whose presence alone should elicit immediate general interest. This, at any rate, might well be expected in the light of his style and reputation. The pervading apathy which attends the presentation is certainly

  • Joe Goode and Ron Davis

    Drawings by Joe Goode and Ron Davis are on display at Nicholas Wilder. It is an oddly suitable juxtaposition. The Goodes are arranged in procession along two sides of the gallery, and the Davises similarly on the facing walls. It is peaceful and serious but certainly not deadpan.

    Goode’s ten pencil drawings elicit a special elevated kind of response, rather a whole absorbing frame of mind. They are of white pillows and sheets, and sometimes edges of mattresses. The tonality ranges from grey near-whites all over to some with heavily darkened places. Their quality of perfect airy lightness has to

  • Vincent Kruger, Howard Bond, Chuck Prentiss, Jules Engel, Ronald Mallory, John Battenberg and Mowry Baden

    The Esther-Robles Gallery is showing a group of new works by gallery artists. Some of the most interesting are younger sculptors and object-makers whose work has rarely been exhibited.

    Vincent Kruger has been working in Los Angeles for about a year: he comes originally from Canada and is a professional architect-designer. All but one of his works here are silk-upholstered. East-West (1967) is the largest, measuring 44 x 56 inches. It hangs from the ceiling like a thick canopy, splitting away from the top into two concavely turned segments. The outer surface is covered in blue silk, with orange

  • “Artists’ Artists”

    “Artists’ Artists” at the Lytton Center of the Visual Arts is an exhibition of samplings from the collections of twenty local artists. The idea isn’t a bad one, but in the last analysis one doesn’t learn very much about the artist-owner through his choice of acquisitions. For example, the fact that Kenneth Price happens to possess works by Altoon, Bengston and Ed Moses is hardly unexpected; neither does it indicate anything surprising about his sensibility. To exhibit a Diebenkorn and a Lebrun from William Brice’s collection seems almost too obvious to be true—one would prefer rather to be

  • Reuben Nakian

    An exhibition of small terra-cottas, bronzes and drawings by Reuben Nakian is at Felix Landau. Most of the works are from the sixties; all but a few are involved with classical idyllic imagery. The pervasive subject concern is with antique archetypes of female eroticism: Leda and the Swan, Europa, the nymph and the satyr.

    Most of the terra-cottas are sgraffito drawings, characterized by sparse, fluid delineation. Two Ledas (1965) exemplify these at their best, exploiting the sinuous linear potential of the traditional composition, transformed into a distinctive (if Picassoesque) idiom.


  • Duayne Zaloudek

    Recent paintings by Duayne Zaloudek, who lives in Portland, Oregon, are on display at Comara Gallery. Zaloudek’s limited imagery is so precious that only a superbly refined treatment of the forms could sustain the works serially. As it is, they become tedious. The primary image is a bilaterally symmetric circular form, like half of an apple (Emerson Woelffer uses it repeatedly), with a stem-like appendage. This shape is surrounded variously by balloon-like forms and jagged edges organized on a horizon-field basis.

    The original bilateral form, as Zaloudek conceived it in his earlier, simpler works

  • Peter Voulkos

    Rarely is the traditional meaning of the word monumental so cogently relevant as it is to Peter Voulkos’s 1967 bronze colossuses, two of which are at the David Stuart Gallery. In turning from ceramics to bronze-casting, Voulkos undertook a series of hugely ambitious tasks. The results are commensurate with the controlled objective. Voulkos has been said to first cast shapes which interest him, and then to weld them together with only a tentative expectation for the results. This seems unlikely. In this exacting medium sheer fortuitousness is rarely a finally determining issue.

    Hiro II, with its

  • Wally Hendrick and Sam Tchakalian

    San Francisco painters Wally Hendrick and Sam Tchakalian are being shown in limited retrospective fashion at the Fine Arts Pavilion in Balboa. It is a curious exhibition, both for the juxtaposition of artists and, in the case of Hedrick, for the selection of works. The well-illustrated catalog, with essays by Fred Martin and Gerald Nordland, offers scarcely a clue to the mystery.

    Fred Martin’s respectful essay on Hedrick must have been written with the advance purpose of conciliating a baffled audience. He is certainly aware that Hedrick’s work cannot possibly be taken seriously in the way which

  • Peter Stroud and John McCracken

    Peter Stroud continues to make relief paintings in emulsion on masonite. However, his recent works can no longer fittingly be called “hard-edge abstractions” as they were, appropriately, only a few years ago when Stroud was one of the “rising newer talents” in England.

    Stroud’s paintings, now at Nicholas Wilder, are basically involved more with color and a sort of linear-spatial elasticity than with edges as such. There are two basic formats in this group, and a radical variance in scale. The largest paintings (up to about 8 by 9 feet) are five-sided. There is one in red with pink ridges and one

  • Martial Raysse

    French artist Martial Raysse is shown at the Dwan Gallery. Raysse is an exponent of the Pop art vocabulary, not as we have come to think of it but transposed into a quintessential French idiom. Stepping into the gallery from the insolent, high-pitched commercial atmosphere of Los Angeles, one is stimulated to a fascinating sequence of speculation about the culture just outside in contrast with the distilled view of popular French culture within.

    The striking distinction is between Raysse’s febrile, exacerbated ultra-preciosity and the American Pop culture’s untrammeled innocence in vulgarity.

  • Marilyn Lasarow

    Marilyn Lasarow, in her group of enamel-sprayed plexiglass paintings at Herbert Palmer, demonstrates that precise craftsmanship goes a long way indeed toward predisposing the critical eye in the artist’s favor. These Constructivist-inspired works, which she calls polyoptics, fall short of complete success largely on account of a tendency to overstatement.

    Nearly all the works shown here are serial permutations of interlocking solid or striped geometric shapes, floating against clean monotonal color fields. Delimited thus, they are immediately perceived as emblems. Polyoptic Stripe #9 is one of

  • John Hultberg and Stanley William Hayter

    John Hultberg has recently returned from Honolulu, where his manner of working has become steadily more restrictive (which is not to say less cluttered). He has not branched out much over the years: now, it seems, his style has settled in for good.

    The Esther-Robles Gallery is showing a group of Hultberg oil paintings and collages, all but two of which were done in 1966–67. The collages, without exception, are characterized by series of images—pictorial or abstract—encased within irregular linear grids. The boundaries are accomplished with black paint, carried over to embellish or veil the contents