Page 62 - Studio International - April 1965

The non-rational tradition in modern art

New York Commentary by Dore Ashton

The continuity of the non-rational tradition in modern
art is assured in an unending sequence of exhibitions
flowing through the galleries and museums of New
York. Unreason seems to be a perennial homeopathic
antidote to academicism. Its recurrent use—ever since
the 19th century repudiation of the Age of Reason—
must be taken seriously. This, at least, is what I
imagine Mr. Lawrence Alloway believes. His exhibition
called 'Eleven from the Reuben Gallery' at the Guggen-
heim Museum, stresses the wild and unreasonable
impulses of a group of rebellious younger artists.
These artists —among them Claes Oldenburg and Jim
Dine, both of whom have travelled far since the Reuben
Gallery days—are characterised by Mr. Alloway as anti-
ceremonious, anti-formal, untidy and highly physical.
I would agree. They are all of those things. When first
they began to exhibit at the Reuben Gallery around
1959, they excelled in exhibiting flimsy, often chaotic
constructions and roughly contrived, quickly perishable
objects. Their polemic was clearly aimed at the bour-
geois, as was the work of their spiritual forefathers,
the dadas.
In the very unceremonious environment of the Reuben
Gallery, the works of these artists achieved what Mr.
Alloway regards as their primary virtue: they over-
flowed into the environment. A great, messy, perplexing
confusion had a certain value. Moreover, the out-
standing activity at the Reuben Gallery, which was the
series of 'happenings', made genuine history.
But it was a history of imaginative retrospect, unavail-
able for reconstruction. Obviously, the hermetic and
infinitely tidy environment provided by Guggenheim
ramps can never even hint at the savour of a rotting,
lower East Side loft or unused store. It is quite shocking,
in fact, to see the most imaginative of the maverick
informalists, Claes Oldenburg, exquisitely presented
in a lucite box. His papier maché non-sculpture titled
Celine Backwards (a clue to the impulse which brought
it forth) looked manifestly ridiculous so neatly packaged.
George Brecht's suitcase of non-relating objects ; Lucas
Samaras' rag and plaster figures and Robert Whitman's
cellophane construction all suffered from the effect of
smart museum technique. They were quite barren.
Particularly meaningless was the four-panelled box
of Allan Kaprow. Presumably the panels had been used
in happenings—a quite reasonable use. But standing
unaccountably in the museum, they are like short-lived
wild flowers entrapped by well-meaning hostesses for a
big banquet. The pallid summary of the exhibition as
seen contrasts rather forcibly with the vivid summary as
read in Mr. Alloway's catalogue.
By coincidence, the man who lent vast authority to all
such experiments in jostling the sensibilities of the
bourgeois, was honoured at the same time in a huge
retrospective at the Cordier Eckstrom Gallery. Rrose
Sélavy, otherwise known as Marcel Duchamp, stalked
the art world again, as once he did in 1915, bringing
the bourgeois to marvel at his easy audacity. Unlike the
young rebels, Duchamp is an experienced and suave
courtier who knows the right measure of nonsense and
the right measure of horse sense. He came a full circle
on this occasion by offering as favours at a small ban-
quet, a Mona Lisa, unadorned, which he called
'rasée'. As one artist remarked, Duchamp knows how to
make the most of his own myth.
And why not? No one has ever invented himself with
Marcel Duchamp more sedulous labour, more thoughtful care. If proof is
Belle Haleine 1921
Cordier Eckstrom Gallery wanted, this exhibition offers it in a rare way : it includes
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