Art reviews: RGI Annual Exhibition/John Byrne

Published on Monday 9 November 2009 18:07

RGI ANNUAL EXHIBITION **** MITCHELL LIBRARY, GLASGOW JOHN BYRNE: CORNERBOYS AND ANGELS **** GLASGOW PRINT STUDIO

GLASGOW is famously an egalitarian city, a place with a healthy disregard for rank and station, and something of that spirit presides in the annual show of the Royal Glasgow Institute of the Fine Arts (RGI), Glasgow's version of the RSA. Here, the paintings (and it is largely paintings) of the student and the pensioner, the teacher and the electrician, hang next to work by professionals David Michie, Will Maclean and Ian McKenzie Smith.

Everyone here is an artist, having been chosen through the RGI's open selection process which has narrowed down a field of 1,100 works to just over 300. It makes for a vast and eclectic exhibition and if at times the quality is uneven, the energy in this outpouring of creativity is a joy to behold.

The former Reading Room of the Mitchell Library poses challenges as an exhibition space, but the RGI has improved it a great deal by opening up the centre to create a kind of sculpture court. All the same, there is no escaping the feeling that every available inch is filled with art.

The vast majority of works here have some relationship to traditional genres. Scottish landscape is well represented, from Tom H Shanks's Loch Hourn, a fine piece of traditional landscape work, to Caroline Hunter's Shoreline West, Morning, a complex work with a deceptively simple composition. Sam Cartman takes a contemporary, graphic approach to the contours of Scotland's hills.

Harbours are ubiquitous here, but Rosanne Barr, shortlisted for this year's Jolomo Awards, manages a fresh semi-abstract take on the subject. She is part of a strong expressionist field, led by James D Robertson's vibrant Evening Landscape, George Devlin's juxtaposition of lavender and cornfield, and John Houston's stunning Golden Lake II, shown here as a tribute to the artist, a landscape of saturated yellows defined by a single horizon line.

As has long been the case, many artists find their palettes enlivened by painting overseas: Hazel Nagl creates an evocative, mysterious scene through the window of a fruit shop in the Veneto; Marj Bond paints the saturated blues of an evening in the tropics in Kerala Night Boatman; Blair Thomson applies a contemporary touch to the Tokyo skyline. Anda Paterson is a worthy prizewinner with her beautifully realised drawings of Spanish peasants with their animals.

The exotic also infuses many of the still lives: Charles MacQueen's Jain Temple, Paul Murray's Altar, and Gordon Mitchell's Free Spirits, a striking composition of red vase, yellow butterflies and turquoise wall, on which the outline of a nude figure is just visible.

When the artists turn their attention to Glasgow, it is to the old Glasgow of shipyards and tenements. James Watt's traditional shipyards are juxtaposed with the work of younger artist Ryan Mutter, who uses a contemporary style to paint a Glasgow of old in Construction Begins on the Queen Mary 1930. Patricia Cain, shortlisted for this year's Aspect Prize, peers into the guts of a building, half-built or half-demolished, and Michael Durning isolates a single sandstone tenement in a flood of bright colours.

There is a cluster of fine figure studies, from Helen Wilson's thoughtful portraits to Angela Reilly's audacious nude. Norman Kirkham's Big Issue Seller evokes a chilly Glasgow night despite its cheery colouring, and Duncan of Jordanstone student Sally Hackett wins a well deserved prize for her quirky, imaginative take on self-portraiture.

The hyperrealists are here in some strength: James H Fairgrieve and Alison Dunlop with arrangements of objects, Graeme Wilcox's figure studies and Jim Dunbar's immaculate evocation of a stretch of fence with a chink of horizon beyond. Rachel Ross shows three promising object studies, and Georgina McMaster's animals are a delight.

Ian McKenzie Smith's Lecht Pines are like characters in Chinese calligraphy, deft and minimal, while Irene Mackenzie's study of dark red irises is quite the opposite, detailed and sumptuous, the petals shifting as if in the slightest breeze.

Rosalind Lawless is a fine and fearless abstractionist, Joe Hargan adds a touch of the theatrical and surreal. Ewan McClure's small but evocative interior Hornel's Easel, tucked away round a corner, is well worth seeking out.

There is similar variety in the (albeit smaller) selection of sculpture, from Archie Forrest's magnificent Harvest to Justin Butcher's ambitious Leap of Faith, a figure poised as if to take flight, made entirely of keys.

Robert Mach's nativity scene and Rococo-style courting couple made from sweet wrappers lend a welcome note of lightness, as does ceramicist Alexandra Johannsen's irreverent Ship of Fools.

If there was one artist who encapsulated the spirit of this show, it might be John Byrne, the slab boy from a Paisley carpet factory who is now artist, playwright and general Renaissance man. Though he doesn't have work on show here, he is doing an In Conversation event at the Mitchell Theatre on 16 November in support of the RGI.

Meanwhile, a broad selection of his print works are currently on show in Glasgow Print Studio's (GPS) new gallery at Trongate 103. The show mainly consists of a body of work he made at GPS in 1992 – his Patrick series, and suite of chubby angels – and new work, in the form of his Cornerboys series and a large group of self-portraits.

Byrne's graphic style translates well into prints, and he clearly enjoys having the opportunity to experiment with different versions of the same image. He works in a wide range of processes, frequently pushing them to their limits. And, not content, with simply print-making, he often hand-colours his prints, turning multiples into unique works of art.

His approach is remarkably versatile: some of these prints are detailed and highly worked; others – particularly the monoprint self-portraits – feel fast and spontaneous.

Man and Crab is a print made from a conte drawing, a fluent study of movement in which every part of the seated figure – even his quiff – seems to stretch towards the crab, which is out of sight, but evoked by its shadow. Fall, one of the best works here, is another, very different, study of movement, a naked figure tumbling which recalls the prints of Matisse.

The Cornerboys recall Byrne's Slab Boys, youths of the 1950s with their quiffs and teddy-boy jackets, mooching on street corners and dreaming of being rock stars.

They represent a version of Byrne himself – he now signs himself "Cornerboy" as he once signed himself "Patrick". If not self-portraits exactly, they are certainly part of an inner journey. Meanwhile, the self-portrait monoprints frequently show Byrne senior in dialogue with his younger self. As the lead Cornerboy plays guitar, death leers from a doorway – psychologists, make of that what you will.

Yet for all that Byrne's chief subject may be himself, he isn't giving much away. This show is more about enjoying the fruit of his consummate skill as a printmaker and his deft experimentation with materials than learning about the journey he is on. Scotland's Renaissance man may use himself in his art, but his true self remains firmly under wraps.

&149 RGI Annual Exhibition runs until 29 November; John Byrne until 23 December