Circles have been venerated in many different cultures throughout history. At the Gow Langsford Gallery, Simon Ingram has a battery of modern circles which fill a wall. Called Paintings of the Sun, they have been made by a painting machine.
The machine is programmed by a computer which responds to impulses from an elaborate aerial on his studio roof. Parts of it are on show with the paintings. The aerial gathered impulses of energy, mostly from the sun but also from outer space at the frequency of 1420MHz, taken at a specific time and day from July to October last year. Each of the 30 circles is linked to a date and time.
This is the process, but what is the product? All circles are a similar size on a white background. Gathered on the wall they make a fine show because of their unity but, as images, what do they suggest to the astronomically illiterate? The obvious suggestion is that they resemble half-recalled diagrams of atomic structure and that they are all the same.
A closer look reveals that each is an individual. The only way to give meaning to the images is to scan each one as a metaphor for a development of some sort that moves towards the centre.
Such a course might be a person's life showing completed endeavours, gaps, clouding with dark difficulties and crowding as the eye progresses towards the centre. The centres sometimes read as a complete achievement and others dissolve into emptiness. Such a reading would be in keeping with Colin McCahon's use of the numbers one to 14 to convey not only Stations of the Cross but also journeys through life. Even when a symbolic interpretation is used the work is more a talking point than an accomplished work of art.
The three prints that accompany the paintings are collections of circles and graphs and astronomical details are much more approachable.
At Gow Langsford's other gallery in Kitchener St is an artistic response to a visit to Gallipoli by John Walsh. Some of the work is simply illustrative of equipment and events. Other work is more dramatic as it imagines the moment when explosives turn men to spirits. One image, Tena Koe Brother, is made particularly moving by the addition of a letter describing the shock of the death of young comrades, volunteers in their late teens, from Russell.
A Maori element adds to the poignancy. Some trenches recall the fortification of a pa and ghostly Maori gods preside over the dead. Some events of great importance - such as the laying of mines in the narrows that defeated the might of the British Navy - are represented by no more than an accurate drawing of the minelayer. Some background of the Dardanelles would have made a more intense image. Many of the works are on paper and the feeling is that these are notes for some more ambitious works that parallel the large paintings the artist has done in the past.
At St Pauls Street Gallery at AUT, a large drawing makes an exceptional work. It is called The Custom of the Sea and is designed by Richard Lewer with his customary bleak view of highly charged situations.
This depicts shipwrecked sailors in a small boat contemplating killing and eating one of their number. It is drawn with charcoal on the gallery wall and captures the moment of decision in an incident in 1884.
Lewer was assisted by 21 other artists in its making, and there is an absolute consistency of style. There is plenty of precedent for creating a work in this way. Even Raphael's great frescos in the Vatican were done with the help of many assistants.
The boat is awkwardly tilted to show the action but the feeling of the emptiness of the wide sea and the solemn desperation of the men is powerfully conveyed. The grim reality of cutting up a body and the isolation on an uneasy sea, are vividly conveyed. Such a collaborative drawing on this scale is worth the effort.
Anna Miles Gallery, now in Upper Queen St, has work by Barbara Tuck as one of its first shows. The artist makes a trip to wild places usually in the South Island and distils her observation into paintings on her return. They are a complex interweaving of remembered glimpses of landscape. In the past they did not include people but in this show humans play a part, albeit small. They are often bathing in pools of water, or simply disembodied faces.
The results are complex and colourful where rock contrasts with the bright green of vegetation. Particularly fine is Dipping Mortal, with vistas of cliffs, clouds, running water and a solitary bather. The diversity of views is tightly composed in intricate paintings.
At the galleries
What:
Paintings of the Sun by Simon Ingram; Gallipoli by John Walsh
Where and when:
Gow Langsford Galleries, 26 Lorne St and cnr Kitchener and Wellesley Sts, to May 23
Simon Ingram has become recognised for his computer-generated paintings and these results are visually stimulating. John Walsh's work is an emotional response to visiting Gallipoli.
What: The Custom of the Sea by Richard Lewer Where and when: AUT, Level 1, 40 St Paul St, to May 22 TJ says: A huge charcoal drawing fills a wall with a scene of moral crisis: whether starving sailors should eat a comrade.
What: Orients and Mortals by Barbara Tuck Where and when: Anna Miles Gallery, 10/30 Upper Queen St to May 29 TJ says: Colourful, intricate landscape unifying a dozen or more remembered scenes with humans subordinate to the overall patterns.