Viewers are part of art process

By T.J McNAMARA

Art never exists in a void. It is a two-way process. Viewers who participate help to create the phenomenon. In Remuera the young artists of the Elam School of Fine Arts are showing paintings and installations throughout the shopping area. The students are competing for a prize but the real winners are the shoppers who may be startled (not much) or soothed (a good deal) by this participatory process.

The award was divided between Kiran McKinnon for painting and Jill Sorenson for a window installation.

There is another kind of participation apparent in the fascinating display about the work of Japanese architect Toyo Ito at Artspace in Karangahape Rd. Here the viewer takes part in decisions and debates about architecture.

In the main gallery four projectors cast computer-generated drawings on to a large screen. The constantly moving images all suggest possibilities for the organisation of space. In one of the smaller rooms, television monitors show discussion about the architect's work and the problems of building in a city. In the third room we watch the building of a large structure designed by the architect. We can see it rise floor by floor and appreciate both the functionality and rhythmic beauty of the tilted support columns inspired by Tatlin's great monument that are Ito's trade mark.

The most complex and lively participation this week is offered by the grand one-man show by Robert McLeod at the Judith Anderson Gallery where we can meet Rapunzel, Mutant Mickey, Joseph and other large paintings.

These swooping, subtle paintings full of cut-out, coupling shapes are full of wild energy, energy of paint as well as energy of thought. And we can be part of it all if we surrender to the work and let our eye follow the intricate adventures that the shapes and textures offer.

Such journeys for the eye offer much that is joyous and funny: Mickey's big ears grafted on to a long, caressing tongue that reaches across Conversation to link excited shapes and hectic reds with some pale and relaxing forms on the other side of the work. It is a conversation between lively emotion and a quiet calm, although the calm forms have teeth.

All is not sweetness and light in these big, intricate paintings. There is a dark centre to the painting Joseph's Dark Years. This centre is collaged with spiky forms and a long wound laced tight but leaving paint standing proud like scar tissue. This expands outward to happier, more lyric forms but these are hampered by chains linked to pots and pans. These are real chains but swooping in, separate from the main body of the work, comes a red form delicately holding a brush. It is like the hand of God bringing the gift of painting to the complex life alongside.

This delicate gesture with a brush is also found in Hooligan, which elsewhere runs riot with violent highways and byways, crutches and groins and the Lord knows what. All these shapes have their origin in a couple of forms at the top right which are shot full of holes like a sign on a back road when the boys with the 22s have passed.

These big, confident paintings are the impressive work of a mature artist with a style unique in New Zealand charging along in top gear.

The exhibition is shared by Jane Henzell who also uses paint in big gestures but on conventional rectangles that lack the power of McLeod's inventive shapes. Her gestures suggest flowers, petals, pistils and stamens. The effect is that we stand back and admire rather than getting involved.

At Oedipus Rex Gallery we can participate in the nostalgia evoked by the work of Paul Chapman because he consistently uses an iconic figure that is everybody's grandmother. She is seen against a bright green background that plays witty games about Granny Smith apples. She is also seen on teaspoons that are like all the things your grandmother collected.

Although this amusing, clever show is called Attack of the 50ft Granny it is not so much satirical attack as nostalgic fun.