Los Angeles

David Leow and “New Members”

Los Angeles Art Association

David Leow took up painting in his forties, and has been fascinated with it ever since. His work does not have an art-school finish or approach, and is uneven in quality. He is at his best with small works, and his largest work Italian Alley displays almost all of his faults and none of his virtues. He is a colorist With a strong sense of design and pattern, and he often utilizes these senses in areas where such qualities would not neces­sarily be present naturally, to the great enrichment of his work. All of his works use either a landscape or still-life as their basis, and the smaller works have a quality of charm which would allow them to fit into almost any atmosphere where charm was not denied. The works are more than mere charming decora­tions, however; the sense of pattern, and design present lift them out of that category. His method of working quiets his subject; there is excitement present only in the juxtaposition of colors and patterns. A notable example of these qualities is the work Lake and Moun­tains, Japan.

In keeping with its policy of trying to help artists over the difficult hump separating the talented amateur or stu­dent from the professional, the Los An­geles Art Association also presents an exhibition of some of its new members. Naturally, with such a premise, the quality of the work will vary greatly, both in style and in timeliness. But it is up through the ranks of the vari­ous art associations that those artists who will be next year’s bright successes will come, and the art associations are the only place that artists whose vision is too individual to fit into a gallery pattern can find a place to show.

Leonard Paz’s print Antenna of My Heart seemed a thoroughly developed work, a quality that other works in the exhibition lacked. The Gerde Penfold Ugly Painting was not that; it showed a direction that was strong and bold in the artist’s thinking. Bernyce Palifka hawed The Bride, an attempt to bring together in one painting both the clear, hard-edged, sharply-defined colors of the Abstract-Classicists and a looser, freer brush-stroke, the whole to evolve into a figure. This is a difficult techni­cal problem, and not solved wholly suc­cessfully. Of the sculptors showing, Edward Cornachio, in his Circus seemed to be evolving a direction of his own.

H. J. Weeks