WITH the annual group exhibitions in Dublin so sharply reduced in numbers, and the Oireachtas now, it appears, hanging on and little more, the RHA exhibition seems to have extra burdens or extra demands pushed on it every year. True, its progression in this decade has been erratic but I believe a pattern has at least started to emerge. You might define it by saying, very generally and approximately, that it is now combining two roles: that of its own, traditional self, and that of the defunct Living Art Exhibition.
There are obvious limits to this and a merely eclectic, all-inclusive exhibition would rapidly end up having little or no character of its own. There is still a core of conservative academicians present (as there should be) but the dominant tone is middle-of-the-road without being tame. Conceptualism is not included - rightly so in my view, since it tends take up too much space relative to its content and also can easily destroy the balance of any mixed exhibition. And a balanced exhibition is precisely what the RHA achieves this year.
I was glad to see Tony O'Malley, Imogen Stuart and Raymond Mintz among the prizewinners. The first needs no recommendation; Imogen Stuart is too often taken for granted simply because she is ultra-professional, versatile and quietly productive; and Mintz is an original sui generis without being a "primitive". Because of his unusual technique, he works very slowly and so has only a small output, but his painting Flower Lady drew much comment from artists and seasoned connoisseurs.
Two international names (I loathe the phrase, but it is hard to find a more literate equivalent) add weight to the sculpture section:
Eduardo Paolozzi and Barry Flanagan, both of whom are, of course, British. This section, which in the past few years had tended to rely overmuch on the acknowledged talents of Melanie le Brocquy, Conor Fallon, Imogen Stuart, John
Behan and a few others, is generally more varied this year. The towering cones of Tony O'Malley (not to be confused with the eminent painter) do not overpower you by their originality, but they have an undeniable presence and energy, and in the daunting spaces of the RHA Gallery, where small bronzes dwindle to matchbox size, O'Malley with his big, bold pieces acts as a kind of anchor-man.
Another interesting newcomer is Olivia Musgrave, whose bronze Europa And The Bull drew much comment. It seems to me to show Italianate influences - Marino Marini, and perhaps Arturo Martini? - but nevertheless keeps a strong individuality and a feeling for rotund volumes, though I was bothered a little by the girl rider's lack of real feet: they trail off like a seal's flippers. Eilish O'Connell's astringent, 1970s-style Modernism also brought new blood to this sector; and while Michael Canning's large construction in paint, plaster, mosses (virtually everything, in fact, except his studio heater) occupies an intermediate area between painting and sculpture, it combines style, taste and strong presence.
Of the portraits, the best and most original is surely Neil Shawcross's Derek Hill, a full-length work in vertical format, while Basil Blackshaw's Self-portrait has all his energy and sheer painterliness. I enjoyed Carey Clarke's own self-portrait better than his rather stiff, "official" version of Albert Reynolds, just as I prefer Thomas Ryan's watercolours and landscapes to his portraiture. Paul Funge is always individual in this genre, though sometimes slapdash, and Owen Walsh's almost Fauvist self-portrait is arresting, but one would have liked more of Michael O'Dea's fresh, immediate portrait drawings.
Hilda van Stockum, rarely seen as a portraitist, shows a strong, intimate picture of her late husband "Spike" Marlin, and proves she is as much at home there as in her admirable still-life works. Louis le Brocquy's Image Of Samuel Beckett can scarcely be tagged as bona fide portraiture; it is in a field he has made his own.
The large, sombre, eye catching painting by Michelle Rogers, Procession Srebenica, is dignified, spaciously planned and, above all, genuinely moving - very much a set piece, perhaps, but a courageous attempt at the kind of "public" grande machine which used to be the special province of academies everywhere, when they still played a recognised role in the scheme of things and were expected to comment on topical issues. At the opposite extreme, Joanna Tinsley's small, warm-toned landscape Amish Road is a real curio, which made me want to see more of her work. Much the same is true of Patricia Nicholson's small but beautifully realised The Hibernian Academy School Of The 1930s.
But rather than go on singling out individual pieces, it should be said there is a solid body of highly accomplished work from John Shinnors, Nancy Wynne-Jones, Anne Donnelly, Martin Gale, Carey Clarke, Richard Kingston, Alexey Krasnovsky (cultured still-life pictures), Veronica Bolay, Charles Brady, and a characteristic painting from Patrick Scott at his most elegant, poised and hieratic.
Of the older academicians, I though Gerald Bruen the most consistent while Marshall C. Hutson's flowerpiece is excellent (it takes a lot of professional skill to paint flowers properly, contrary to the popular misconception).
The sculpture, apart from those names already mentioned, includes noteworthy pieces by Michael Duhan, John Coen, Melissa Diem, Edward Delaney, Robin Buick (his maquette for a fountain).
Individual names or works I ticked off in the catalogue (a good one it is, by the way) were Michael Canning, Marie Carroll (a quasi-"primitive" painting reminiscent of the late Gretta Bowen), Chris Dearden, Nuri Duzan, Tom Glendon, Charles Harper, Jennifer Kingston, Isabelle Peyrat (a striking, macabre piece in glass), Vincent Sheridan (his etchings of crows are outstanding), Elizabeth Taggart, Maighread Tobin, Derek Whitticase. All in all, this year's academy has a good deal going for it and demonstrates that, given the elementary yet rather rare qualities of good will and sane judgment, much can be achieved by an exhibition which throws its net wide, but selectively and not indiscriminately. Yes, the RHA has still a relevant role to play in Irish art, something which it seemed to have lost for nearly two decades.
