print Summer 1977

Jack Tworkov

Jack Tworkov is 77. He recently exhibited 12 new canvases and 4 smaller pieces. These new works, in which he claims to consider “line and painterly mass” anew, form an accomplished exercise.

Untitled (Q1-76-#1) would seem to be the progenitive work in the show. The canvas surface, 80 inches square, is broken up into segments described by varying acute and obtuse angles. The angles radiate from a single point, where vertical and horizontal lines intersect, and where, in many of the works, a red dot is found (like coordinate points plotting material stress in some engineering diagram). In the lower

print Summer 1977

Horace Pippin

Horace Pippin lived from 1888 to 1946. He once wrote, “My opinion of art is that a man should have love for it, because my idea is that he paints from his heart and mind. To me it seems impossible for another to teach one of Art.”

Wounded in the First World War, he taught himself to paint by gripping the brush in his paralyzed right hand and guiding it with his left functional one. His mind, heart and hand designed and executed paintings with what seems to have been an inviolable concentration upon the image fixed in his mind. His works manifest a sure physicality by means of highly impastoed

print May 1977

Peter Campus

Peter Campus’s show at The Kitchen consists of four color videotapes, Four Sided Tape, East Ended Tape, Third Tape and Six Fragments, and two closed-circuit low-light video installations, Lus and Num.

For the past 15 years Campus has been involved with film, television and video communication. And in 1960 he received a Bachelor of Science degree in experimental psychology (he studied perception). Going backward, then, we trace his major interests: the mind’s workings; the perceptual mechanisms instigated in the mind by light; narration (television) created out of and for the mind, accompanying

print May 1977

Lee Krasner

Lee Krasner’s new collages suggest a concern with time both in conception and execution. The titles of the works are the temporal forms of verbs—Past Perfect Subjunctive, Present Conditional, Past Continuous, and so on. The collages are composed of charcoal drawings from 1937–40 when she studied with Hans Hofmann, accidental rubbings reflecting the untreated drawings on opposite clean sheets, and painted paper, fragmented and poignantly arranged in a general grid patterning recalling the “Small Paintings” hieroglyph series of 1946–50.

Past Continuous is comprised of three panels broken up into

print May 1977

Carlotta Corpron

Carlotta Corpron’s exhibition of photographs, “Form and Light: 1942–1949,” displays an interest in how light metamorphoses objects. In a statement available at the gallery, she writes: “I was fascinated by the geometric purity of a glass cube, and the wonderful patterns that were formed as the lights played over and through it.” And further, “If my work has any value it is due to its originality and my design background.” And yet in 1923, ten years before Carlotta Corpron bought her first camera, Lazlo Maholy-Nagy wrote in “Light—A Medium of Plastic Expression”: “Instead of having a plate which

Steven Madoff