WITH a mere eight canvases, this is in every sense a Minimalist exhibition; the pictures themselves are monochromes, with no "image" whatever except insofar as rectangles of a single colour can be images in their own right. They are not even big and enveloping in the New York style, nor do they indulge in irregular shaped canvases. As paintings they are medium sized, quiet, and in rather subdued colours - pale yellow, brown, dull green, wateryblue, etc. No primary colour in the strict sense, and nothing fortissimo.
It is obvious enough, from first glance, that we are on terra which is no longer incognita and that Ryman and other New York painters have already done something rather similar. Yet this exhibition has its own voice, not merely an echo, and it holds together firmly as a unit - in fact, so much so that you wonder if the individual pictures would make a commensurate effect - on their own. Hung in the cool, white walled Kerlin Gallery, with plenty of light and space about them, they combine like an orchestral suite, and produce a general effect of quietude and calm.
Monochrome canvases have a history going back at least thirty years - vide the case of Ad Reinhardt; and of course the late Yves Klein, who was full of ideas if not greatly creative, was one of the earliest with his famous blue paintings. Klein's work, however, was psychedelic and excitable, while McKeown's suggest a cool, almost Oriental contemplativeness. Shows such as this involve risk taking, since the artist flirts with nullity and his works may suggest a void, or merely decoration, rather than any positive statement. In this case, however, the risk has proved worth the running. The result is not notably original, but it is poised, tasteful, and says neither too little nor too much.
