Martha Utterback

  • South Texas Sweet Funk

    “South Texas Sweet Funk,” affably inconclusive as a title but for its pithy connotations and desultory open-ended nature, is an art of eloquent content among other things: armadillos out of that gentle Austin congregation, Wonder Wart Hog, mama plants, the waggish not-so-dumb regard of vermicular noodles and weenies, a plucky flying machine consigned never to be wafted away—all as indigenous and as popular with a numerically indifferent, but esthetically demanding, clientele as the chili contest at Terlingua or the Huntsville Rodeo, though not as institutionalized. An assortment of some of its

  • Warren Davis

    Warren Davis’s paintings, handsome, successful, obedient to the confirmed surface vocabulary of color field, range remarkably from painting to painting, each a distinct articulation of precepts and means. Multiple thin absorbed layers give a matte dry finish, with occasional more succulent touches. In one painting a froth of sprayed color pulverizes incipient centrifugal pat-terns to oscillate within the planar expanse. In others, inflections strain in a gently splintered give and take of mutations, as hints of compositional segregation converge through tonal and color diffusions. Each painting

  • Harry Geffert

    Harry Geffert’s neon sculptures pace the installation of his exhibit with the same distillate of process that marks the work itself. The first gallery opens with the largest of his pieces, a manually operable two-color structure; the next, two motorized works, one a blue vertical, the other a yellow horizontal floor piece; and the last, two still sculptures, very low and quiet. On leaving the exhibition, back through the gallery with the large work, a final inert vertical wall piece, related in form to the moving sculptures, catches the eye, and, with a vigilant glint, links the entire display.

  • Jim Love

    Other things in Houston being unequal there is a tacit congruity in the scale of Jim Love’s jacks. Misleadingly un-chic coffee-table sizes, effectively awkward in-between sizes, chair sizes—functional, but comfortable?—and large outdoor sizes, they are all fit but not formidable. They are a reasonable extension of Love’s earlier assembled machine part, found object sculpture—the droll, the perverse, the transformed that remains irrationally snuggled to its former personality. But the jacks are a direct rather than a sly approach to objects; they borrow a shape, not an identity; they are not

  • Richard Mock

    In the curvy red carpeted laps of stratified Jones Hall, Richard Mock has created a multiplicity of intimacies, a rather wondrous achievement. In ten areas, linked by random repetitions and communities of materials and by sociably plotted curiosity and surprise collisions, he has managed to establish within the multi-level, highly eccentric interior a quite different circumstance. It is not an exhibition, in fact, but a series of distinct situations, unavoidably accessible, with no pre-planning about what ought to be present or experienced, the notion of the interception of public and art on

  • Texas

    A group exhibition at the newly opened Cranfill Gallery includes two new works by George Green, a Dallas artist, whose handsome constructions and paintings seen last season at A Clean Well Lighted Place were exceptionally clean-cut competent exercises in perspective, when viewed on one level alone: how to present a three-dimensional wall construction as an illusionistic painting, taking into consideration color, value, edge—blurred or sharp, cast shadows, viewing vantage points; and then, how to paint it as two-dimensional, non-illusionistic surface painting, without giving up anything discovered

  • Juergen Srunck, Barry Buxkamper

    Juergen Srunck’s color prints on transparent vinyl, sealed in laminated sheets and suspended by clear monofilament cord from the ceiling, approached by way of a very literal format the simulation of something Olitski was quoted several years ago as saying about paintings that would consist of nothing but some colors sprayed into the air and remaining there. Strunck’s prints, admittedly without the ethereal associations or diffuse properties suggested by that thought, reveal an alternative approach to the isolation of color in space with, at least, an illusory absence of supports or boundaries.

  • Thirty-Third Annual Exhibition for Artists of Fort Worth and Tarrant County

    Some must sidle abjectly and anonymously into any competitive exhibition out of respect for Arp, R. D. Laing, Dick Higgins, La Jolla ’63 and now, it seems, Richmond ’70, at the very least; and competitive exhibitions with prizes, reference Bob Hope on the Oscars, that they are dedicated to the proposition that jealousy and envy shall not perish from the earth. The Thirty-Third Annual in Fort Worth allows ample placation if not outright justification. It is presented in not merely a handsome installation, but one handled with the perception and ingenuity necessary to treat each of one hundred