Visual Arts:The title work and centrepiece of Tom Molloy's show, Fall, at the Rubicon Gallery is spectacular in an understated way.
Its theme - the victims of politically inspired violence - and its scale, together with the fact that it is monochrome, painted in shades of grey on black paper, all seem to refe r specifically to Picasso's Guernica, the pre-eminent anti-war painting of the 20th century and long an iconic work in its own right.
Molloy's artistic temperament is pretty much the opposite of Picasso's, though. Rather than the grand, expressive gestures and the assertive personality of Picasso, he inclines towards strongly conceptualised schemes that almost invisibly infiltrate areas of public discourse, often inhabiting pre- existing signs and images.
His vast composite watercolour might at first glance be an abstract, all-over composition but quickly reveals itself as the stylised depiction of a mass of falling human skeletons, their pale, ashen forms accumulating along the base of the composition. They are rendered in a uniform, simplified manner, and the whole thing has the textural evenness and subtlety of a well-designed rug, perhaps lulling us into a false sense of security. Like Guernicato a significant degree, Fallis a chilling comment on the human cost of geopolitical manoeuvring, and an aspect of the chill is the offhand coolness of the delivery.
Guernicaimbues a specific atrocity with universal symbolism. It's hard to see falling figures in the contemporary context without thinking of the people who jumped from the Twin Towers on 9/11, but Molloy's treatment is carefully distanced and abstracted. An accompanying note invites us to view his use of materials in relation to "Deleuze and Guattari's characterisation of Kafka's works as 'minor' literature, a deliberate evasion of dominant modes of address in favour of an art form of resistance." Which begs the question of what Molloy, and the work, are resisting: perhaps being co-opted by or buying into the world-views promulgated by demagogues and extremists, whatever their political or religious poison.
In which case, he is certainly spoiled for choice at this particular historical juncture, when various disparate groups jostle for position and countless thousands of human beings are routinely ground to a pulp along the ideological faultlines that criss-cross the world. Previously, his work has implied a critique of the US's ambitions for global dominance, and there are echoes of that in a couple of the smaller works in this show, but Fall itself, in contrast to the specificity of Guernicaor Goya's Third of May, comes across as a more general comment on human folly.
Richard Gorman's print show, Kite , at the Graphic Studio Gallery could be subtitled "Richard Gorman's World Tour". The several bodies of work included were made in Ireland, France, Italy and Japan. Included are two boxed sets of woodblock prints made at the Atelier Michael Woolworth in Paris, one of which - Cinq - is displayed on the walls (the other, Sept, made under the auspices of The Beckett Project, will be on view from September 29th).
In all of his work Gorman uses a pared-down formal vocabulary of mostly muted, flattish colours and just a few abstract shapes, including square, oblong and lozenge, dividing compositional spaces into quadrants and criss-crossing them with diagonals. He has a distinctive colour sense, with a liking for retro, Art Deco hues, though in a loose rather than a strict prescriptive sense. So he's an abstract artist tending towards some kind of minimalism? Yes and no. His use of form, particularly, introduces an element of levity into the work, a playful lightness that stops it taking itself too seriously and provides an irreverent, subversive undercurrent.
He ranges across scales with great ease, from a series of small, exquisite woodcut monoprints that have great individual presence to huge two-part composites, made at Stoney Road Press in Dublin, which are equally convincing. All of the various papers used for printing are in themselves beautiful, and Gorman never tampers with their innate qualities but works sensitively with them. In terms of paper, though, one set of prints deserves particular mention: works from Milan on richly coloured, handmade Richard de Bas paper.
The work in Auricle , Cathy Callan's exhibition at the Ashford Gallery, could easily come across as twee. She paints seahorses, daisies, berries and shells, often on a tiny, picture-book scale. But several aspects of what she does, and how she does it, militate against tweeness. One is her penchant for unlikely supports for her paintings: she paints on bottle-tops and the ends of biscuit tins and cheese-boxes as well as on more orthodox surfaces, including hardwood and canvas. Then there is a dreamy, obsessive quality to her work in its concentration on oblique details.
Auriclerefers to the outer ear, she says, and several pieces home in on ears and earrings. A painting of an ear is metaphorically interesting, and so too is another, miniature piece, a remarkable earring which features a painting of an ear. Callan notes that she followed her own chance inclinations in deciding what and how to paint these works, and there is a stream-of-consciousness air to the show as a whole that is quite refreshing.
There are several studies of hedgerows, all imbued with a great feeling of profuse growth and transience. Reading from left to right, an elaborate sequence of paintings, Chrysalis, which begins with a copy of a Leonardo and culminates in a portrait of musician Michelle O'Brien, offers an interesting meditation on the way an encounter with a work of art can inspire further ideas.
Perhaps Callan is a miniaturist, though, because when she moves up-scale her painting becomes more uncertain and bland, as in Lucy in Blue. Still, it is a rewarding, well- designed exhibition, effectively augmented with a specially made, ambient musical score by Jack L.
• FallTom Molloy, Rubicon Gallery, 10 St Stephen's Green, Dublin, Tues-Sat, noon-6pm, until Oct 6. KiteRichard Gorman (including two collectors' boxed sets of woodblock prints, Sept and Cinq), Graphic Studio Gallery, off Cope Street, Temple Bar, Dublin, Mon-Fri 10am-5.30pm, Sat 11am-5pm, until Oct 6. AuricleCathy Callan, with an accompanying sound piece by Jack L, Ashford Gallery, Royal Hibernian Academy, Dublin, until Sep 27
