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Fortnight Publications Ltd.
To Certain Communist FriendsAuthor(s): James SimmonsSource: Fortnight, No. 25 (Oct. 1, 1971), p. 19Published by: Fortnight Publications Ltd.Stable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/25543730 .
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FORTNIGHT ,9
Arts Pages_
TO CERTAIN COMMUNIST FRIENDS
"In the groves of their academy, at the end of every vista,
you see nothing but the gallows." Social reform by revolution is the morning's great pollution.
In new disguise, trying to infect
my infant liberty, I see a sect of hateful puritans. Hate! Hate! is the only hope they contemplate.
As thick and po-faced as Stone Henge they circle you and seek revenge.
Any rebel who cannot laugh and kiss the head he's cutting off is a bad Qgg. Before he's hatched
he must be kissed and then dispatched.
The inefficient upper classes are kept in power by the masses.
They aren't like old men of the sea
riding Sinbad in crafty glee. Like silly Sinbad they too lack brains, but he lifts them on his back and, concentrating, walks with all
his skill for fear his burden fall. Oh, Sinbad, set them gently down and build together the just town.
Avoid the old Professor's lure of calling scriptures Literature.
Christ didn't take the nails and fetters to get on well with men of letters.
Leave the lectures, every boy who does not hear the jokes and joy. Those who fear examinations nail the coffins of the nations. He who gets the highest mark
joins the powerful in the dark. He who writes down what he knows, God will guide him where he goes. He who loves what he writes down builds the bricks of Marble Town.
Before I take my leave I take this chance of thanking William Blake.
James Simmons fc I ! II I
Art_ L . . - - ? . i
The invitation was irresistible. "Spec tator participation is inherent in the works shown . . . there are knobs to
twiddle, exciting environments to walk
into, inflatable shapes ..." Better than
Hamleys, it sounded. But, alas, alas, I
went to the Arts Council Gallery, ready to participate like mad in the 15 works from the John Player Biennale 2. I did
my best, really I did. iBut alas, alas ... I stood before a
nice enough looking little edifice of perspex bricks, neat and tidy just as a
good .child would build; there were words printed on the bricks, phrases and an invitation to speak into a hand
microphone at the side. I spoke, I whis
pered, I shouted, I growled, I near
screamed?nothing happened. I walked
into an "environment", a little black
outside lavatory, it seemed, a not too
comfortable chair to sit on within and a pretty unattractive lot of pin-ups around with the climax a vision of an even less attractive me as I swivelled
round.
Ah well, I went in search of the win
ning exhibit by Joy Yvonne Kennion.
III. 9
It sounded lovely in the catalogue des
cription ? coloured objects moving in
coloured water, unexpectedly submerg
ing and changing colour. The objects were there, triangles set geometrically inside squares on the top of a black velvet bordered tank; I pushed the
switch, others did the same?but regret
fully it had to be accepted that it just did not travel well. A trio of switches lie up three knobs below what was in itself a very attractive perspex structure
that one could move around, but which
did not gain anything from the little
green knobs.
The greatest pleasure I took in the exhibition was in what might be re
garded as a fairly standard example of kinetic are?discs in which coloured
liquids sprayed and bubbled, changed colour and direction; the possibly more
technically exciting merry-go-round of
oils within perspex containers dripping and cascading, I found unpleasing in colour and at one point too reminiscent
of the hospital "drip". John Patrick
Garrihy's Great Ebb Project, the purity of the lines of coloured pebbles con trasted with the vulgarity of beach
posters and "snaps", is meaningful and
the sensuous pleasure of Gabrielle Stubbs' pansy is undeniable (it would look charming in a chic shop window, but not, please, with, the pink naked
babies she expressed a desire to have inserted between the folds). A very nice,
pure construction by Alan Pratt, who,
unfortunately, was killed in a road
accident before he could complete it.
Upstairs in the Council's Gallery Colin Harrison and William Bogle ex
plore some of their fantasies and
obsessions in ways that at times fascinate and at others confound the viewer.
Harrison has devised his own continu
ing diary in a form that is a cross between a wall newspaper and a gigan tic college. In it are incorporated minute, felicitous drawings of objects that he
may develop into major paintings, old
visiting cards, scraps of knitting, often in the shape of South America or Aus tralia and once, I understand, of Cor
sica, the island that neither he nor
Bogle has visited but which stands for a
symbol and gives the name to their
joint exhibition. There are scraps of
clothing, too, snippets that in truth look rather more agreeable than full-scale
costumes devised for wearing in the
plays or films that the two artists have worked on.
Typescripts of the plays and of a novel, or part of them, lie around; there
are stills from two films, a case of
prints, an amazing jetsam. j\ huge
patchwork quilt designed around Aus tralia, instructions for knitting various
countries and the actual knitting, usually done by Harrison's mother, are among the fascinations. A cloth covered in num bers which may, or may not, be inten
ded to be linked which is William
Bogle's portrait of Schonberg and three
immensely long streamers decorated with a repeated print are among the more
confusing objects. In the Ulster Museum there is another
exhibition for which we are indebted to John Player. This consists of outdoor sculpture by Roger Leigh and indoor, table sculpture by John Milne and
Dennis Mitchell. The sculpture court offers a fairly adequate setting for Roger
Leigh's work, but clearly it is intended to be related to an architectural situa tion or, as in the case of the delicious
mobile blue sails, in some immense sea
garden. He uses mostly stained timber and, working basically with complete or incomplete triangles, achieves a very
strong compact image which makes a
distinct and different impact from each different angle of vision.
The relationships are exactly judged. They belong with the uncluttered archi tecture of today, to be set in open spaces
within a building or an outdoor expanse. Both John iMilne and Dennis Mitchell
work in brass, John Milne represented in this exhibition by a collection of smallish pieces, coffee-table equivalents, it might be said, of the brass "toys" of
Gaudier Brzeska, but nothing Me so elaborate and not lying so comfort
ably, so irresistibly within the hand.
This content downloaded from 185.2.32.46 on Wed, 25 Jun 2014 04:00:00 AMAll use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions