
Gallery Group
Ankrum Gallery
A diverting show of the gallery stable’s paintings and sculptures which range from the historically respectable to the inconsequential. The former include Feitelson and Lundeberg (a tiny, marvelous “Dark Sea”), Burkhardt (in a new direction, loosening Gorky’s shapes with Yunkers’ bruised color), and Schwaderer (as primitive as ever). Block’s encaustic-like, bleached intimism and Bosworth’s accidental, oriental air-views are curious, individual and memorable, but probably (along with Frame) caught in a cul-de-sac. In a preview of Goedike’s one-man show we find he has moved the models abandoned by Roger Kuntz outdoors and glazed them with “come to California” Technicolor.
The remainder, the sculptors, have a more difficult time. Lazarevich’s readymade ruins are an antiquarian’s nostalgia for instant monumentality. The junk people of Kussoy, the constructions of Zimmerman, and Kestenbaum’s figures vary between the cute, the harmless, and the plainly annoying.
