Jane Livingston

  • 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

  • Alexander Archipenko

    “Alexander Archipenko: A Memorial Exhibition” is commencing its two-year American tour at U.C.L.A. The 118 sculptures, drawings, lithographs and “sculpto-paintings,” all from the collection of Mrs. Archipenko, provide a broad retrospective view of this remarkable Cubist sculptor’s output from 1908 until his death in 1964. One feels, in fact, that it is a virtually complete view. His four or five principal related directions are each represented with numerous examples. There is less a sense of fecundity, or of unconsummated experimental ideas than of finished, superbly facile quality in spite of

  • Helen Frankenthaler

    Seven stained canvases by Helen Frankenthaler are at Nicholas Wilder. Each painting makes positive use, to a greater or lesser degree, of unpainted canvas. Five Color Space (114'' x 75'') employs irregular patches of green, violet, ochre, blue and vermilion around the border to circumscribe a large and insistent white shape. The edges are rough and occasionally fuzzy, but their chief function is to delineate. The paint is relatively opaque, though there are, in all these works, impurities within the color masses. In Five Color Space, the violet paint is partially diluted and has a soft, dappled

  • Carl Andre

    Carl Andre’s biggest, newest floor sculpture is at Dwan. It is made of 1,232 uniform grey concrete bricks, each 7 5/8'' x 15 5/8'' x 1 1/8". They form a huge, room-sized rectangle with eight un-uniform rectangular islands created by the absence of bricks. It is called Cuts, and it is meant to be walked on. It is quite literally an environment. It is not a space: it is a place. It is delimited and defined as an accessible entity not by its outer edges but by the islands in its interior. People don’t stand in the islands.

    The materiality of this work transcends itself. The fact that large quantities

  • James Weeks

    James Weeks’s recent late-afternoon paintings of figures, still lifes and landscapes at Felix Landau are at the same time serene, totally objective and nostalgic. He builds his compositions with solid planes of color, choosing subjects—figures at a piano, bare groupings of geometric still-life objects—which are inherently free of complicated detail. Their overall structural character is analogous to a wooden puzzle perfectly fitted together. The austere framework is secondary, however, to their luminous and chromatic qualities. In Large Park Landscape a thick, beautifully organized clump of

  • Oliver Andrews

    Junk sculpture is no longer necessarily funky. There is now such a thing as refined junk, or semi-junk. Oliver Andrews’s latest work at David Stuart has acquired the clean surfaces of the current reductive movement and its offshoots. The similarity, however, is no more than skin-deep. Most of Andrews’s sculptures are complex and ambiguous. He employs Anthony Caro’s trick of juggling planes and lines in space, deliberately avoiding any obvious geometric parallels. For instance, Ra has only three components and it is not especially large. But it is difficult to take in at a glance because from

  • Clark Murray

    Hard edges—even in the overfamiliar sense of the term—are neither dead nor dying. They are vibrantly alive in eight new wall sculptures by Clark Murray at Nicholas Wilder. These are of rolled steel, varying from approximately eight to ten feet in length, and are monochromed with red, orange, blue, green, yellow or black sprayed paint. Though they are closely related to Murray’s modified wedge shaped pieces that were shown here last year, there are a few crucial differences. First, the earlier glossy finish has been toned down to a uniform matte surface, which eliminates distracting reflections

  • Robert Frémont

    At Esther-Robles, California artist Robert Frémont is having another exhibition of clever, colorful oils and drawings. There is a great deal of spoofing—plays on words in French and English, recurrent Pop banalities and a few semi-scatological references. Frémont doesn’t really belong to American Pop art genealogy, however, and his Surrealist-symbolist French origins show themselves in a number of ways. The ascendant stylistic influence comes from Chagall, in the way of stained-glass color applied in flats, compartmented composition and even a few idiomatic borrowings such as winged females and

  • Melvin Schuler

    At Ankrum, northern California sculptor Melvin Schuler is having his first L.A. exhibition. He works in wood, mostly black walnut waxed to a handsome finish, and builds both freestanding monoliths (usually with more than one component) and bolted constructions. They range in height from about four to nearly seven feet. The monolithic pieces show a strong feeling for proportion and balance, or imbalance, but apart from a few really engaging ones in which solid, roughly squarish chunks are unevenly superimposed in heavily precarious stacks (Tall Form), they tend to call too much attention to their

  • Bernard Cohen

    Bernard Cohen has at least temporarily set aside his fragile, semi-Surreal figural mode (represented here last year in a series of drawings) to experiment in lyrical color and abstract shapes and patterns. His twenty-two tiny acrylics (about 4'' x 6'') at Ceeje. are surely conceived more in the spirit of experimentation than as matter for lasting preoccupation. They obviously call for close-range scrutiny, and one is reminded, if not for the first time, of the astonishing power of scale alone to control modes of visual apprehension. There is a certain immediate attractiveness in these delicate

  • Robert Chuey

    Robert Chuey’s impressions of a recent visit to the Swiss Alps, in the form of fourteen energetic, Expressionistic oil paintings and a number of drawings, are at Fleischer/Anhalt. In eleven of the large oils, Chuey works for the first time in black and white. They all deal with groups of crystalline planes and surfaces: even areas suggesting the flow of glacial masses are densely broken up. Landscape at Eiger is the most remarkable of these, having a boldness and all-over drive that the others lack. The angular forms seem in some places to push upward, and in others to tumble diagonally down