Page 56 - Studio International - April 1966

The artist as dissenter

New York commentary by Dore Ashton

The separation of art and politics, enthusiastically spon- In their initial call for the participation of artists all over
sored by governments, is proving hard to maintain in the world, the Los Angeles artists stated the situation
tumultuous America. The most rigorous arguments simply: 'We artists today, each day, attempt to summon
against the artist's engagement are breaking down as the creative energy in an atmosphere polluted with the crime,
moral issues in American politics emerge with intoler- the moral decay that is the reality of the war in Vietnam.
able immediacy. The horrible distractions provided by It is no longer possible to work in peace.'
the war in Vietnam have poisoned the air, forcing even Sculptor Mark di Suvero, who designed the steel struc-
the most single-minded artists to signal their distress. ture which has reached almost 65 ft in height, speaks for
Reluctantly, but with increasing frequency, the Ameri- many artists of his generation (he is 32) when he insists
can artist appears in the role of dissenter. In certain cases, that the war is illegal. He holds that the tower 'is a
he merely lends his name to various ad hoc committees symbol of the cultural conscience of artists all over the
formed to advertise the almost unanimous revulsion on world'.
the part of intellectuals all over the United States. In Where the visual artist is beset with doubts concerning
other instances, he offers a fragment of his world as a the use of his art, the literary artist is traditionally asso-
symbolic gesture. Of the hundreds of painters who have ciated with occasional strong dissent. Recently some
Peter Saul collaborated on the Artists' Tower Against the War in twenty-eight poets, writers, and actors appeared at a
White nurse 1965 Vietnam in Los Angeles more than half submitted panels 'Read-In for Peace in Vietnam' to 'bear witness to the
Crayon and ink on paper
54 1/2 x 40 1/2 in. in their normal vein, not specifically aimed or propa- viability of the American conscience'. Many of the poets
Allan Frumkin Gallery ganda-oriented. and writers participating are not considered 'political' :
they, too, like the artists, have found it hard to work in
peace. Their unanimous message was an uncompromis-
ing dissent, a vividly expressed revulsion in the face of
what Chairman Stanley Kauffmann, drama critic of the
New York Times, called 'the corruption of this country'.
Although in the art world it is commonly considered
poor taste to discuss what is wryly described as politics,
rents in the armour begin to appear. Numerous younger
artists have turned to collage, resuscitating the tradi-
tion of Heartfield, Grosz, and other Europeans, in which
they utilize the eloquence of press photographs as docu-
ments of war. Allusions to outrage occur more often.
One of the most unequivocal exhibitions on the subject
of Vietnam is offered by Peter Saul at the FRUMKIN
GALLERY. Subtitled Open Letter to the Marines, the exhibi-
tion consists of large crayon-and-ink drawings in Saul's
satirical comic-strip style. The Donald Ducks which were
familiar protagonists in Saul's previous paintings now
wear military garb and engage in atrocious war games.
Symbols of America—money-bags and dollar signs—
alternate with universal symbols, chief among them the
crucifix.
Saul's evocation of the more dangerous myths and
mores of America takes the form of the jarring profusion
of lettering, signs, grotesques, and obscenities found in
comic books for illiterates. Eyes shriek Ouch! and charac-
ters are identified as Commie Pervert (appropriately cruci-
fied) or Commie Sex Beast. Colour is at fever pitch, with
acid greens, dull cheap reds, and screaming yellows
dominating. At first sight these teeming images seem
naively construed, but once the eye adjusts to the dis-
harmonies Saul's ingenious composing reads very well.
In the discouraging absence of great political cartoon-
ists, Peter Saul's statement fills a void. He deals as directly
with immediate injustice as Daumier did before his
imprisonment.
Even Cy Twombly seems unable to work in peace of
late. His new drawings at the CASTELLI GALLERY include
several quotations from Garcia Lorca, a poet who cannot
be dissociated from war and outrage.
Twombly's freehand style has undergone little altera-
tion over the years. He still wields his pencil lightly, with
the assumed innocence of childhood. His wavering lines