Pushinsky's Paintings

'Til 30th November at the Folly Bridge Gallery

At last! A fresh, vibrant and accessible gallery in Oxford! Into this provincial, introverted town comes art on a global scale. For John Piper fans, this is the place, housing many of his prints. Henry Moore charcoals quietly adorn the far corner, balancing the smattering of local works and those of owner, Orde Levinson.

Into this arena comes a fresh, young and rather anxious painter, Richard Morris Pushinsky (a 1997 National Gallery prize-winner). In his quizzical manner, he explores the concept of the gallery itself and how we visitors unthinkingly accept the standard museum-temple image of institutionalised spirituality. He does this through transforming instantly recognisable images, notably Rembrandt self-portraits (handily visible in Blackwell's current display!). Pushinsky has lovingly tinkered with these on computer, producing an 'essential' Rembrandt, stripped of awesome technical prowess that one automatically admires, but strategically retaining salient features - a five-toned Rembrandt still gazes at us cynically and forlornly. These five paintings, the central one arched like a pre-Renaissance altar image, re-enter the (post)-modern world injected with our wry, self-conscious humour.

The small room gradually swells with good humoured, excited art-lovers, armed with wine yet REALLY studying the works. But they join a conceptual host of spectator silhouettes, cut-outs crafted along the base of each portrait. These posed white silhouettes laughingly proclaim the viewers' presence and I want to adopt their postures 'for the camera'. Ironically, the experience is secondary, as the 'real' paintings are evoked and still revered. But the comparison is set to draw attention to a general lack of instant, sensory contact between artwork and viewer. It is a 'Homage' that urges us to review these undoubtedly great masters in a fresh, more immediately spiritual way. Less convincingly, the row is joined by a sixth, a la El Greco, of Christ. Quite skilful repainting in tonally simplified, near-white colours give this work a distant ghostliness. Having deconstructed our awe of Great Masters in his other renditions, this is the coup de grace - the direct spiritual experience that centuries of 'great art' on imposing museum walls has stripped from the art experience. We are to bathe In His Light', truly awe-struck. Does it work? It might, in a different, quieter location. Meekly hiding in a corner of this noisy preview set-up, it could easily be missed. But perhaps this is the point.

This line-up faces a different story - of another, vivacious world, dug into lino by jungle-bred Namibian artist, Muafangejo. Contravening museum culture, these story book images evoke the African oral tradition of a vibrant, modern community keeping its past lessons alive and relevant. Ironically they, too, are parabolic representations: Jealousy man wants to kill a Rich man for S. African Money. Yet it is his work, Hope and Optimism - in spite of present difficulties that inspired the world-wide collection of prints by leading artists from each nation. An injection of hope and optimism is what Island Gallery gives to us. I hope its unbounded ideology seeps into Oxford life. See you in their riverside restaurant, to be opened in 2000!

Liz Mellings