“Alexander Archipenko: A Memorial Exhibition” is commencing its two-year American tour at U.C.L.A. The 118 sculptures, drawings, lithographs and “sculpto-paintings,” all from the collection of Mrs. Archipenko, provide a broad retrospective view of this remarkable Cubist sculptor’s output from 1908 until his death in 1964. One feels, in fact, that it is a virtually complete view. His four or five principal related directions are each represented with numerous examples. There is less a sense of fecundity, or of unconsummated experimental ideas than of finished, superbly facile quality in spite of

Seven stained canvases by Helen Frankenthaler are at Nicholas Wilder. Each painting makes positive use, to a greater or lesser degree, of unpainted canvas. Five Color Space (114'' x 75'') employs irregular patches of green, violet, ochre, blue and vermilion around the border to circumscribe a large and insistent white shape. The edges are rough and occasionally fuzzy, but their chief function is to delineate. The paint is relatively opaque, though there are, in all these works, impurities within the color masses. In Five Color Space, the violet paint is partially diluted and has a soft, dappled

Carl Andre’s biggest, newest floor sculpture is at Dwan. It is made of 1,232 uniform grey concrete bricks, each 7 5/8'' x 15 5/8'' x 1 1/8". They form a huge, room-sized rectangle with eight un-uniform rectangular islands created by the absence of bricks. It is called Cuts, and it is meant to be walked on. It is quite literally an environment. It is not a space: it is a place. It is delimited and defined as an accessible entity not by its outer edges but by the islands in its interior. People don’t stand in the islands.

The materiality of this work transcends itself. The fact that large quantities

James Weeks’s recent late-afternoon paintings of figures, still lifes and landscapes at Felix Landau are at the same time serene, totally objective and nostalgic. He builds his compositions with solid planes of color, choosing subjects—figures at a piano, bare groupings of geometric still-life objects—which are inherently free of complicated detail. Their overall structural character is analogous to a wooden puzzle perfectly fitted together. The austere framework is secondary, however, to their luminous and chromatic qualities. In Large Park Landscape a thick, beautifully organized clump of

Junk sculpture is no longer necessarily funky. There is now such a thing as refined junk, or semi-junk. Oliver Andrews’s latest work at David Stuart has acquired the clean surfaces of the current reductive movement and its offshoots. The similarity, however, is no more than skin-deep. Most of Andrews’s sculptures are complex and ambiguous. He employs Anthony Caro’s trick of juggling planes and lines in space, deliberately avoiding any obvious geometric parallels. For instance, Ra has only three components and it is not especially large. But it is difficult to take in at a glance because from