Jean-Louis Bourge

  • Sol LeWitt

    Certain art is deliberately aimed at the threshold of consciousness, at the fine line where awareness meets the void. Pointing to Muzak, the aural tranquilizer, some may claim all such art has to be pretty deadly. But the claim would be too broad. When used to challenge rather than stupefy, threshold art can render experience not duller but keener. An intriguing example is Sol Lewitt’s wall drawings at Dwan.

    LeWitt works with wide expanses of texture so fine, so diaphanous, so unsubstantial that many are close to invisible. They float on their brilliantly lit walls like yard after yard of exquisite

  • Allan Kaprow

    Allan Kaprow’s Days Off is a calendar of Happenings. Oddly, where LeWitt’s gallery work is crucial and published work at best superfluous, Kaprow’s case is just the opposite. The published work makes his John Gibson show redundant.

    Days Off is like a movie of stills. Kaprow’s fine eye and sense of pace allow him to be the director of ten consecutive “still-shorts,” some hilarious, some disquieting. In this hybrid. medium, clearly two gifts count—skill at the individual isolated image, and skill at that image in time, as one of a series, as a moment. Kaprow has both.

    His flair—or weakness, depending

  • Larry Poons

    In his new paintings at Lawrence Rubin, Larry Poons moves further away from the dot and lozenge constellations that were his trademark. A sense persists of vast imaginary places of which we are offered segments, but place’s feeling has changed, in the show’s two major paintings, from air to earth, from what often approached the spectral to suggestions of immense topography.

    In a small but prominent passage in Night Journey, painted last year, Poons had already begun to deliberately alter his canvas’s surface, in this case to blister it. He has expanded this interest. The surfaces of Dangerous B

  • Ronnie Landfield

    Ronnie Landfield’s large paintings at David Whitney repeat Poons’s interest in process, using repeated stainings so often that they are no longer read as “from the hand.” Above and below such stained areas Landfield applies paint traditionally, with hazy pastel colors above and a wide hard-edge color-band below. In bringing together such widely disparate surfaces, Landfield seems interested in both the lyrical (the stain and pastel) and the sober (the band), a blend very difficult to achieve. Landfield’s efforts are not successful, it seems to me. They tend, I find, toward the giddy and the