THE annual Banqueting Exhibition (which is what the title above refers to this year) began some years ago with much aplomb, but seems already to have grown rather staid. This tends to happen, of course - sometimes quite quickly, as things settle into a groove, which almost inevitably they do. The system of invited artists holds good this year, and apart from the many Irish ones, the invitees include a number of Czech artists, a few English ones, and two Germans.
Overall, the exhibition leaves an impression of sprawl rather than size; it is very mixed in quality, and there are just too many works included to maintain the level of talent. At the risk of sounding harsh, I think that it would have gained much by a sharp reduction in numbers - as much as 40 per cent of the exhibits might go without appreciable loss. In some previous years, the "mix" was interesting and quite unpredictable, but this time it looks all too like the annual RHA exhibition seen second time round, plus a few exotics.
The Czechs - or to be exact, South Bohemians - are interesting as a whole, but a little old-fashioned. For instance, the South Bohemian Landscape by (the late) Vaclav Kutsis is a charming picture, and personally I enjoy this kind of regional flavour when it is not phony or touristy or overtly self-conscious, but Permeke and his like were doing that 60 years ago or more. Permeke, too, did it with more power and monumentality.
Stylistically Matous Vondrak's quasi-abstract Winter Landscape is more contemporary, without being actually memorable. The ceramic sculptures of Tomas ProIl are witty and engaging, but hardly heavyweight, and Milan Doubrava's Dart, Dart, Hole in wood is a good piece, though not strikingly original. The oversize, stylised nudes and torsos of Miloslav Cicvarek show a good, crisp handling of flat colour, while some of the graphic art is highly presentable, with a faintly surreal quality.
Three small paintings by Michael Mau (his nationality is not stated) are straightforwardly realistic, but sensitively so, with a strong feeling for the play of light and darkness and a very definite "mood". A roomy Landscape by Paul Winstanley (British) makes a good exhibition piece but, to me anyhow, carries too strong a flavour of Gerhard Richter. And an unexpected exoticism is the single sculpture by Anish Kapoor, lent by the British Council a large, black, protruberant wall-piece in fibreglass and polystyrene.
On the home front, there is a smattering of good works from Basil Blackshaw, John Shinnors, Charles Brady, Mary Lohan (who is now using more colour in her impastoed landscapes), Rosaleen Davey, Oliver Comerford. Martin Gale (two sensitive little watercolours), Cherith McKinstry (though the two landscapes she shows are not her best), Philip Moss, John O'Leary, Michael O'Dea (whose portraits in chalk pastel are excellent), Neil Shawcross. Veronica Bolay's smaller pictures have her own ultra-personal lyricism, and I enjoyed the curiously hard-focus, idiosyncratic figure paintings of Una Sealy - a kind of Pop realism. Mary Avril Gillan's big, almost aggressive Open Road has real courage, but Noel Sheridan's single painting, Say Again, I found baffling and oddly empty. There are also good, competent graphics from Ruth O'Donnell and Marie-Louise Martin
However, it is the work of the more conservative artists which is disappointing; with the possible exceptions of Carey Clarke and Barbara Warren, it is generally conventional and unrewarding. Hilda van Stockum, a lone figure, continues to uphold the classical tradition of still-life painting, and does so with finesse and a real depth of culture; her work is not so much old-fashioned as timeless.
The best of the sculpture, I thought, came from Melanie Le Brocquy, Carolyn Mulholland (who also shows some highly original drawings). lmogen Stuart (eloquent small bronzes, almost miniatures), and John Coen. Rowan Gillespie's bronze The Great Departure is an impressive small group-piece which looks like a maquette for a more ambitious work.
