Exhibitions
Renos Loizou (Christopher Hull, till 7 June) John Minton (Michael Parkin, till 14 June) Hugh Davies (Trinity Gallery, till 16 June)
Self-
Giles Auty
Is the worst over?' 'Are things picking up again, would you say?' These are ques- tions asked as regularly in recent months within the confines of the London gallery world as they have been just about every- where else. Three suicides, a good few clos- ures and other lesser, fiscal injuries later, the answer may possibly be 'yes'. A dealer whose face I hadn't seen for months stop- ped me in the street to apologise for the paucity of invitations issuing from her gallery. 'Things have been rather quiet, you know.'
The logistics of running a West End or even East End art gallery are not unknown Riding out of the Flames, by Renos Loizou, oil on handmade paper laid on canvas, 1991 to me, which is another reason why I con- tinue to admire the variety and vivacity of the art which is available through commer- cial galleries in London. Other critics of a somewhat pinker political hue often affect to despise our system of dealerships, look- ing back or, worse still, forwards wistfully to more art being under effective local authority and hence political control. In the days of the GLC and its Arts Association, galleries were subsidised openly from the public purse as outlets for any kind of art so long as it was antithetic to capitalism and conservatism. Where at least some of the GLAA subsidies ended up the laws of libel deter me from stating.
Art, which is seen by many as a luxury, rather than as a necessity for the spiritual well-being of society, is naturally vulnera- ble to the vagaries of the economy. The perceived value of its artefacts is also pecu- liarly sensitive to scaremongering by sale- room correspondents whose desire for a good story may well precipitate further crises of confidence. Clearly, excessive attention — or even glee — lavished on poor auction results accelerates the pro- cesses of decline; in a society influenced increasingly by the media, day-of-doom headlines become self-fulfilling inevitably. However, as a sign of better times, three gallery-owners have told me during the past fortnight that they have just renewed subscriptions to The Spectator which they had allowed to lapse, as a misguided econ- omy, during the black hours of last autumn. One cannot but see some element of masochism in their original denial to them- selves of the weekly comfort of our colum- nists. Thus the hidden purpose of our 'Low life' column is that the unfortunate may reflect on the still greater misfortunes of others, while our 'High life' column sets out openly to tell of the human benefits which may accrue from early nights, eating green vegetables, piety and study.
Christopher Hull's present premises (17 Motcomb Street, SW1) are familiar to me since I exhibited my own paintings there a number of times in the 1970s when they were known still as the Belgrave Gallery which is located these days in St James's. Indeed I have followed Mr Hull's fortunes with interest since he began with a gallery in Wimbledon. His is an enterprising policy of showing the young and promising as well as more established artists such as John Craxton. Loizou was born in Cyprus but lives now in Cambridge where the warmth of his Mediterranean vision and palette cannot but raise the temperature some- what. Loizou's art looks eclectic but is based on his own drawings which he weaves later into painted evocations of Mediterranean heat and harshness, lust and dust. His classical landscape reverber- ates with the howling of hounds and bray- ing of asses rather than just with the cheerful chatter of tourists from Coventry. Nostalgia bred of exile can be a potent force.
A few doors away, at 11 Motcomb Street, Michael Parkin is showing a selection of works by John Minton. The exhibition cele- brates also the launch of Dance Till the Stars Come Down, a biography of the emo- tional Minton by the cool-headed historian Frances Spalding. Minton remains an inter- esting artist much of whose apparent charisma found social rather than artistic
outlet. His drawing is competent and solid more often than dazzling. Michael Parkin has assembled a good cross-section of his works. To collect drawings by Neo-Roman- tics such as Minton, Vaughan and Craxton would make as sound a start as any for those setting out on collecting seriously. I forecast a strong future market in Vaughan especially.
Hugh Davies is a London-based artist who believes drawing should be taught properly. However, his own 50-odd paint- ings aspire to an element of romantic mys- teriousness which sits awkwardly on classical ideals of draughtsmanship. The juxtaposition resulting is an odd one and would be aided by greater sobriety of colour, which verges at times on the apoca- lyptic. Trinity Gallery (47 Albemarle Street, W1) is a handsome space run by a Scotsman who opened it at the very depth of the present recession. For a member of such a clear-sighted race to act thus cannot but inspire the rest of us with confidence.
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