Exhibitions
John Napper (Thos Agnew & Sons till 16 May) Albert Irvin (Gimpel Fils till 10 May)
A contrast of styles
Giles Auty
Last week two exhibitions opened which could hardly have been in greater contrast. At the first, at Thos Agnew & sons (3 Albemarle Street, W1) John Nap- per is showing 50 sparkling watercolours, the first he has painted since his student days, half a century ago. At the second, Albert — better known as Bert — Irvin has put together an exhibition mostly of large, brightly coloured abstract works which continue the painting fashions of the Fifties and Sixties. Gimpel Fils (30 Davies Street, W1) was one of the galleries most strongly associated with and supportive of this movement.
Here is an example of two established artists from the same generation — Irvin is the younger by six years — who have come to entirely different conclusions about the purposes and potential of paint. To what extent is this explained by their back- grounds? Napper is the son of an artist and studied first at the Royal Academy schools and then under Gerald Kelly. After teaching life painting at St Martin's he lived in France for more than a decade and now works in Shropshire. Many, but by no means all, of Napper's images are drawn directly from his present locality, to which he has obvious attach- ment. His use of watercolour is clear and clean with precise tonal definition. Occa- sionally he uses an ultra-fine black ink line to separate forms; this gives a slightly old-fashioned, illustrational quality to a painting such as 'Still Life with Eggs and Spoons' from 1985. But other still-life paintings are exquisitely designed and in- ventive. In a series based on an old Aga cooker, with its attendant pans, plates and skillets, Napper uses two-dimensional form in a detached and abstract manner. Yet such images also score through the warmth of their human associations. While Napper must be classed as a Khan among Aga painters, he performs equally brilliantly with another series based simply on brushes, paint tubes and studio parapher- nalia. Here, once again, the artist uses the bright blue velvet lining of a glasses case for its shape and colour first and only coincidentally as an object. A single, large crab also serves as the basis for an excellent design in which the angle of the table top is crucial. These are paintings which reward close study and which emphasise the irre- placeable benefit of early lessons in observ- ing and drawing, the core of bygone acadeMic training. Paintings such as 'Cox- all Knoll' or, more obviously, 'The Ridge at Leintwardine' pay clear tribute to Cot- man, while 'The Church of St Giles: Downton' has a dignified simplicity which is essentially Eastern in origin.
Of the outdoor paintings `Snowscene: Edge of Wood' and two delightful evoca- tions of Dieppe display the artist's ability to handle simple or complex forms and compositions with equal ease. This exhibi- tion is the first to be arranged by Agnew in association with Mark Glazebrook and is a credit to both parties. In conclusion, it is interesting to note that while Napper's work appears in France's Musee d'Art Moderne and in the modern collections of other nations, it remains unrepresented in our own national collection at the Tate.
Like the expression of fiercely conserva- tive opinions, abstract painting often strikes a false or inappropriate note when coming from the young. In both cases the experience necessary to reach a state of sincere and well-founded conviction seems lacking and outpourings somewhat shallow in consequence. In the Fifties and Sixties the facile adoption of abstract mannerism offered too easy a path to artistic recogni- tion and pecuniary success. Many reputa- tions made in this period and manner now seem in need of revision. While not sug- gesting that abstract artists such as Bernard Cohen, Robyn Denny, John Hoyland and John Walker are necessarily among this number, the degree of exposure each has received by comparison with Bert Irvin seems hard to explain.
Irvin is a painter of forthright manner who continues to believe in the principles, and adequacy as a medium, of Abstract Expressionism, a mode many have now abandoned, not always for something better.
While the artist's paintings consist most- ly of brilliant colours applied with a certain gusto to form multi-layered structures, he also shows an awareness of beauty. In `Glenmore', his gauzy pinks, blues and greys have something of the iridescent shimmer of mother of pearl. Similarly in `Cathedral', deep, transparent blues create an unworldly space. Here Irvin's practice is contrary to the formal dictates of Clement Greenberg who enjoyed much critical cre- dibility during the Sixties, a period from which most habits and fashions now seem inexplicable and thankfully remote.
Irvin's paintings become less interesting when the colour he uses is opaque — and thus two-dimensional — or when size is reduced beyond a certain, well-defined degree. Although the means used by Irvin and Napper are so different neither can hide from us the warmth and commitment of a sincere and likable artist.