Artistic spirit finely portrayed

Press, 20 April 1977, Page 13

Artistic spirit finely portrayed

by MICHAEL THOMAS The retrospective exhibition of the late John

Panting (1940-1974) at the C.S.A. Gallery, which will end on April 24, is the fi- - nest example of the artistic spirit to have been seen for some time. The show which occupies the entire gallery, spans the years Panting worked in London before his tragic death in a motor accident at the age of 34. Originally from Palmerston North, John Panting studied sculpture at the School of Fine Arts, University of Canterbury, before going to London and the Royal College of Art in 1974. Here it was the summer holiday period, when he had the studios to himself, that was most precious. His capacity for hard work, his commitment, and his sculptural ability won him the rare honour of becoming a tutor at the Royal College on completing his course. He later became head of the sculpture department at the Central School of Art and Design, and at. the time of his death was acquiring an international reputation as one of the most promising sculptors to have emerged in the 19605. The respect in which he was held in Europe was marked with <he mounting of a retrospective exhibition of his work by the Arts Council

of Great Britain in 1975. This show revealed an artist of greater ability than had hitherto been realised —- a fact endorsed recently by the probability that one of his works will be purchased by the Tate Gallery. A large part of this exhibition is now touring the country under the sponsorship of the Queen Elizabeth II Arts Council of New Zealand. The sculpture, drawings, and screen prints at the C.S.A. represent a small part of the artist’s total output over this period. This amount alone is impressive, if one knows the tremendous practical difficulties which face a sculptor in London today. There is a sense in all the works of an artist continually developing, a sculptor of enormous energy seeking problems to resolve, and making it more difficult for himself by finding new questions to answer. He never repeats a statement: each work has its own “raison d’etre.” The earliest pieces are to be seen on the ground floor, and are made predominantly of fibreglass. “Wall cross with chain” combines the formality of a fixed cross with the random nature of a hanging chain, and is prophetic of later work. “Random rings and cross” attempts to come to terms with the question of isolated objects, and their relationship in the sculpture as a whole when they remain autonomous and physically unconnected. This random “feel” is taken up again in the later pieces, where it becomes ati integral part of the work rather than the reason for it. In “Untitled VIII 197374” for instance, the dilemma between formal predicted outcomes, and unplanned decisions or possibilities which occur during the working process, has been built into the piece. Short lengths of iron bar are used. These give opportunity to alter during the building, and the result is a surprising challenge to the eye. The raw character of undisguised material, and the way it has been added together. give the whole thing a misleadingly disorganised junk-yard look. It is, however, a structurally considered work; supports end unexpectedly one inch from the floor, and yet the whole thing is constructionally sound and stable — it has been totally conceived, and is still free in feeling. “Untitled VIII 1973” (Cat. No. 23), in wood and steel, another late work, is as tight as a clenched fist, and has a similar dynamic. The half painted stale of the bits of packing

wood and undisguised rectangular tube add textural toughness; they do not distract from the cut and thrust of the planar surfaces, which build the interior space of the piece so solidly. Elegance, economy, and grace are the characteristics of the linear, tensioned wire pieces of 1969-72. Many are variations or extensions of the square or triangle, and each captures the critical point where tensioned wire and strained metal agree. At times this balance appears to defy natural laws — as in “Flying Cross 1 1969,” where the cross does seem to be lighter than air. The horizontal square in “Untitled 1969” hovers six inches above the ground, and in another piece the square takes on a movement reminiscent of a heron in flight. The small parallel triangles of 1969 seem to be dancing together in perfect, unison. One has to remind oneself that these are made of metal; the engineering is so precise, and force and counter force are so acutely balanced. In the small angular “sketches” in metal, Panting’s economy, ingenuity, and ability to come to the right unexpected answer are clearly seen. Essentially linear, these are line drawings in space./Simple yet not obvious, their scale is perfect, and they express — like all the other pieces — those relationships which sculpture alone can express. Panting was obviously an able and versatile artist, but one with a distinct direction. Technical facility was to him a means to an end, an aid to help him resolve an idea satisfactorily and move on to the next. His energy, his continuous development, and the freedom in his latest works, are a few of the many qualities this exhibition brings out. There can be little doubt that, together with Len Lye, John Panting is the greatest sculptor of international stature that New Zealand has produced. His influence is already to be seen in the work of younger sculptors in both London and New Zealand. The artistic spirit which drove John Panting to work so hard and to achieve so much must, have been more than partly aided by the early days in which he studied sculpture in Christchurch. It would be a fitting tribute if a major piece from this show were to remain in Chrsitchurch, and were to be on public view to mark the respect which is felt by many people here for the work of John Panting.