Page 24 - Studio International - November 1965

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mysterious than ever in the formal natural setting.
Long accustomed to thinking of sculpture in relation
to the terrain, Noguchi achieves the simplicity and
monumentality an outdoor setting requires.
Other sculptors whose work rarely appears out of the
gallery context fared rather well on the whole. I was
particularly struck by the stately harmonies of Raoul
Hague's woodhewn abstractions, their warm browns
and simple forms gaining a great deal in the shadowy
corridors of the garden. James Rosati's bronzes also
flourished in the dim light of tree-sheltered sites. His
Delphi II, a smallish sculpture in which large curving
forms are bound tensely by ropey lines, creating a highly
energetic and very self-contained effect, stands mar­
vellously isolate in a dell of ivy. The greenish patina of
the piece blends with its surrounding. Here, the surprise
of encountering this almost camouflaged exhibit is a
real delight.
Less orthodox in technique but none the less apposite
are Richard Stankiewicz's assembled sculptures-not
his best or his most recent, but characteristic. Stan­
kiewicz's parts are painted, but one of his rusted shapes
takes on the same mildew green as a weathered bronze
and respires with ease in the garden.
Among the sculptures designed in monumental scale,
Herbert Ferber's copper-welded compositions take
their place with dignity and elan in the central mall of
the garden. Reuben Nakian, on the other hand, appears
less dramatic in the outdoor context. His sculptures,
originally composed in burlap soaked in plaster on
metal armatures, lose a certain vitality in their dully
finished bronze cloaks.
The tour of the garden is a peaceful, nicely paced
affair. The chapel, crammed with sculptures that could
not be exposed outdoors, is another matter. As I
entered I saw a middle-aged, gloved and tailleured
irate French lady angrily talking to the guard. Who.
2 she demanded, had the colossal nerve to cover three­
quarters of the stained glass windows with panels, and
for what! The guard shook his head sadly. Les Ameri­
cains, madame, les Americains, pas nous. I saw her
point. There was something decidedly out of joint in
this interior exhibition. Even the best sculptures seemed
hopelessly out of place, and the masking of the stained
glass windows did, indeed, throw a pall.
Here, in the gloomy depths, Louise Nevelson's black
wall worked very well, almost assuming the magic of
an alterpiece. On the other hand, Frederick Kiesler's
ornate sculpture which was an altarpiece, jumped out
of context unpleasantly. His Birth of a Lake though,
did impress me, although the giant formica setting he
fashioned for it is unpleasantly white and antiseptic.
This decidely surreal sculpture. with its door tricked
out in false perspective and its suspended form within,
and its symbolist sentinel at the door's entry relates
1 strongly to the direction of theatrical composing that
Raoul Hague many a younger artist is attempting to pursue.
Angel M1/lbrook 1964
Walnut Strangely enough, the theatrical presence of George
143.1 x 142.6 x 77.7 cm
Segal's Woman in a Cate was pale and unmoving. I
2 should have thought that the plaster effigy would be
David Smith
Cubi1our I (detail) 1964 oddly arresting in such a setting, but it looked unpre­
Steel possessing. All the more so since just across the way
3 stands Rodin's own fantasy-a plaster effigy of a
Jose de Rivera bathrobe (a study for his Balzac) standing lifesize and
Construcvon
Steel eerily empty. How much more stirring is the unexpected­
4 ness of the void within the realistically fashioned robe
Alexander Calder than the totality of Segal's woman.
The Falcon
350 x 450 cm. Of all the sculptures installed in the chapel, probably
186