San Francisco

Group Show

Peacock Gallery

Work by six exhibitors is randomly inter­spersed and scattered throughout a labyrinthine maze of dimly lit, over­furnished rooms, dark narrow corridors and cluttered alcoves. A pretentious gallery brochure is prefaced with some silly rhapsodic prose by Mr. Robin Blaser concerning Tom Field’s painting Genji. Rather curiously, some pains were apparently taken to hang this painting, in poor lighting, near the top of a fifteen foot wall—over the kitchen sink! None of the few more visible paintings indicate that any of the art­ists represented rise above the level of a stale and derivative mediocrity in their chosen idioms. Serious evaluation, however, is hopelessly impeded by ludi­crous conditions of presentation that place an insurmountable burden upon any attempt to responsively examine specific works, or to comprehend the thinking of the individual artists.

Palmer D. French