Page 41 - Studio International - June 1967

exclude any of the great pioneers from the band of those results from dogma. Hence the particular preciousness of
who were brought in to contribute something. Matisse, his work—not self-indulgent richness or fussy prettiness,
for instance, is not mentioned in connexion with but a respectful valuation of each large or small pictorial
Nicholson, yet it would be strange if he had not benefited, event.
through instinctive sympathy, from the Frenchman's Nicholson is now 73 years old. One looks in vain in his
keen eye for pictorial fact and his sense of puritanically recent work for the warming benedico of a late style.
controlled lavishness. And the extraordinary thing about Among his most recent works are also some of his most
Nicholson's synthesis is its clarity : its constituents always stringent. Reliefs dominate, and those of an exceptionally
retain the kind of purity that in others' more limited art naked sort. A new shape appears in Erymanthos 1966 and
an untitled work of 1967—a rectangle, roughly, with top
and bottom edges that curve outwards and give it a
steely, streamlined quality. In effect this is very signifi-
cant : the relief form itself takes on a time element,
normally found only in Nicholson's inscribed lines with
their varying qualities of speed. But even the normally
stable forms of his reliefs seem to have been set into
motion. In Zennor Quoit 2 1966 this is achieved through
emphatic repetition that reads as sequence; in Loc-
mariaquer 4 1967 through a curious jockeying for position
by the variously coloured portions of the relief. There are
bright, sharp colours that stress Nicholson's new tempo.
A lot of the work is larger than one expects. It would
look, then, as though Nicholson has been drawn more to
the cool end of his own spectrum to produce more of those
crisp, near-geometrical works with their latent elegancies,
and rather fewer of the more mellifluous and friendly
still-life compositions with their latent crispness. There
have been similar shifts of climate in his career before and
it would be foolish to predict anything from this one.
What really matters is that his work continues, without
any wearing down of eye or hand and, more remarkable
still, without any declining into routine or habit. This is
mostly a matter of personality—a lively, sharp mind sup-
ported by good health, sheer pleasure in creative work,
and an eye refreshed frequently by drawing.
There is one element in his art and personality that is of
major importance throughout his career and certainly
(I feel) contributes cardinally to the vitality of his
continuing work. I mean his wit. I do not mean that, like
Picasso or Schwitters, Nicholson uses his art as a platform
for humour (though there are some jokes to be found),
but that his sense of form and construction is profoundly
witty. The conceptual paradoxes he confronts us with are
expressions of this but one senses it also in occasional
references, e.g. the hind leg of some prehistoric beast in the
Altamira 2 1966, and in the juxtapositions, the intervals,
meetings and near-misses, the almost Feydeau-like en-
counters and escapes that occur between his lines and
planes. This is a kind of wit that is closely related to
deftness and dexterity and to the maker's pleasure at
their result. We are familiar with it in music. I believe
that its action in Nicholson's work is similar, and to
recognize it there we must allow the work a comparable
time-span to unfold itself to our imaginations; it is in
answer to some attempt at retracing the artist's steps in
forming his object that it will reveal itself most fully.

Top Single circle 1966 relief and oil, 18+ x 20+ in.
Left Spider 1965 oil wash, 20¾ x 26¾ in.