Various Artists
Gallery of the Hills
through July
Don’t be put off by the name. Yes, Texas is an inspiration for numerous
artists, many of whom too often produce stereotypical, yawn-inspiring rodeo
scenes and tumbleweed portraits. (Will we ever get past that?) As Austin folks
know, there’s a lot more to Texas than glittery red ropers and Tom Landry still
lifes.
Fortunately, the artists showcased here are also aware of that. Initially,
what’s most striking about this show is the artists’ diverse styles and
subjects; it’s interesting to see how differently five people perceive and
convey the same subject. Not only are the works aesthetically different, each
artist employs a different tool; oils, pastels, sculpture, acrylics and
printing are all put to use here.
The oils, by Lisa L. Miller-Gray, feature hazy, blurred scenes, as if seen
through eyes full of quivering tears. Think of gazing, tears in your eyes, at a
large woman in a pink housedress, walking a poodle down a long stretch of
highway. There you have “Panhandle Pink Poodle Pilgrimage.” Motley pilgrims, to
be sure.
Anne Nelson Sweat’s pastels portray familiar scenes: Texas’ favorite rock
glows with a smooth purple surface in “Enchanted,” and an all-too-shallow body
of shimmering blue water trinkles downstream in “Barton Creek Blues.”
The collection also contains beautiful limestone sculptures by Walter Allan —
smooth, sublime works that look almost like petrified wood — and J.D.
Challenger’s serigraph prints of colorful, solemn Native Americans. Betty
Pitman’s realistic acrylics of Texas wildlife, the show’s most conventional
pieces, add a nice traditional segment to a commingled show.
William Morris and His Circle
Various Artists
Wren Room, Harry Ransom Center
through August 16
William Morris believed an artist could not exist outside a community of
like-minded folk. Given that, he would certainly be pleased with this
collection, a grouping of his works alongside those of his contemporaries, Sir
Edward Burne-Jones and Dante Gabriel Rossetti.
To label Morris as an artist, however, is a little misleading. Paints and
canvases were not his tools of expression; poetry, decorative arts, and social
commentary were. With these, he became one of the most important figures in the
late Victorian era. This exhibition memorializes two centennials: Morris’ death
and the publication of the Kelmscott Chaucer, the most important work
from Morris’ printing press.
This show tells a tale, one easily discernible in the letters, notes, poetry,
and pictures of Morris and his pre-Raphaelite artist friends. The Englishmen
had “enduring but tempestuous” relations, which bordered on soap opera drama. A
sort of precursor to 20th-century literary circles, Morris’ group could be
catty and vicious, a clashing of brilliant minds distracted by their own
insecurities. Nevertheless, it makes the collection all the more interesting.
The biggest strain in relations was between Morris and Rossetti, a well-known
painter who found a perfect model in Morris’ wife Janey and engaged in a fairly
public affair with her for several years. (This after Rossetti’s first marriage
ended in his wife’s suicide, and he buried the sole manuscript of many of his
poems in her coffin, only to dig them up years later, dip them in antiseptic,
and publish them!)
Rossetti later enjoyed using Morris’ youngest daughter, May, as a model; the
pieces here with May prove the artist’s stance as pre-Raph-aelite master. His
“Study for Mary Magdalene,” with the bold lips, beseeching eyes, and flowing,
wavy hair common to Raphaelite subjects, is a beautiful, quiet moment in this
somewhat turbulent show.
Several of Morris’ books on design are included, as well as books printed at
Kelmscott Press, including the mammoth Chaucer. The show is as
interesting cerebrally as it is visually, giving insight into the minds of the
guarded Victorian intelligentsia.— Cari Marshall
This article appears in June 21 • 1996 and June 21 • 1996 (Cover).