About two thirds of the way through the painting biennial exhibition at Washington's Corcoran Gallery, there comes a sight as refreshing as a jump in the ocean on a hot day.
The show is devoted to 20th-century works that have entered the gallery's permanent collection from the Corcoran's previous 44 biennials of American painting. It starts well, but by the time the viewer arrives at mid-century, he has seen a progression of representational paintings that grow increasingly repetitious and boring.
Then, at the turn of a corner, there are three bracing abstractions: the dramatically placed rectangles of Burgoyne Diller's "First Theme" (1962), the calm authority of Josef Albers' "Homage to the Square: 'Yes' " (1956) and the exhilarating multicolored vertical stripes of Gene Davis' "Black Popcorn" (1965).
The juxtaposition of these works has an immediately exciting effect. But it's short-lived, for they turn out to be superior to much of what comes after them. Unfortunately, the Corcoran often failed to acquire works by the finest artists in its biennials.
That's not simply due to poor judgment. The reasons are more complex, involving what the works cost, changing patterns of giving and other factors. Nevertheless, the show does not contain works by Jackson Pollock, Mark Rothko, Willem de Kooning, Jasper Johns, Ellsworth Kelly, Robert Rauschenberg and many other American giants.
Their absence doesn't exactly make the show a failure. As a history of the biennials and their effect on the Corcoran's collection, the show reveals as much through its absentees as through its inclusions. And as a show of 20th-century art, it has enough distinguished works to argue for a visit, from early ones by Mary Cassatt and Winslow Homer to recent ones by Joan Mitchell and Sean Scully.
The Corcoran Gallery of Art, a privately funded institution founded in 1869 by collector and patron William Wilson Corcoran, was Washington's first art museum. In 1907, it inaugurated a biennial exhibition of contemporary American painting, and now, as the century comes to a close, it has decided to pause and look back through the gallery's biennial acquisitions. Of 230 in all, about 130 form the present show.
The show, says deputy director and chief curator Jack Cowart, provides an opportunity to take stock.
"It's a chance to buy good intellectual reflection time and decide where to go from here," he says. And especially to decide whether to broaden the show's scope from painting. "In light of media technology, with digitalization and laser printing and the Web - all unexpected vehicles of art-making in 1907 - maybe it's time to decide which to adopt or not. We want to be where the best of the action is."
The biennial has adapted itself to changing times in the past, notably in the 1960s. It began as a part-juried, part-invitational show, which allowed the gallery to invite eminent artists who didn't want to submit their work to the jury process. The early biennials were huge surveys of current American painting, with up to 400 works included.
By the mid-1960s, with the explosion of the American art world, such attempts at comprehensive surveys had become impractical. Since then, biennials have been invitational, organized by curators and often themed (regional, for instance, or all abstract and then all figural). They have also been smaller, including from five to 50 artists.
Changing times
The reasons behind the collection's lapses have changed, too. In the early years, as Corcoran curator Linda Crocker Simmons indicates in her catalog essay, conservatism prevented the inclusion of many avant-garde artists. "The conservative nature of the selections is apparent in the treatment of such developments as American impressionism, the 'Ash Can' school, regionalism or the American scene, abstract expressionism, pop and op art - even the Washington Color School - which often were recognized years after they first emerged."
Since the biennials became curator-driven in the late 1960s, the selections have included most of the great names of the second half of the century. But by then, the best-known artists couldn't be bought. "Some artists were just too expensive," Cowart says. "By the time they were showing here, their works cost hundreds of thousands of dollars."
That doesn't mean none of them are in the collection. Works by artists such as de Kooning, Kelly, Rothko, Kenneth Noland, Morris Louis, Richard Diebenkorn and Frank Stella came to the collection in other ways, often by gift. But if they weren't in a biennial, they can't be in this show.
At times, collectors have given works that have appeared in biennials. But here again, time has taken its toll. Back at the other end of the century, the Corcoran was the only museum game in town. But the profusion of museums in Washington has made the Corcoran one among many possible destinations for collectors' generosity, and not the most high-profile one at that. As Cowart sums it up: "We have one Rothko. The National Gallery has 200."
Increasing prices and increasing museums no doubt account for some of the present show's lopsidedness. Most of the better works appear closer to the beginning.
The first gallery has its share of the very best, with two quite different renditions of women, each typical of its artist. Mary Cassatt's "Susan on a Balcony Holding a Dog" (c. 1880) is an impressionist gem, with its sparkling whites and its lovely portrayal of the young woman. In Winslow Homer's "A Light on the Sea" (1897), the sturdy woman with hands on hips casts a sidelong, almost defiant glance at the sea behind her as if to say that the irresistible force has met its immovable object.
This gallery devoted to the earliest biennials also contains John Singer Sargent's dramatically lighted landscape "Simplon Pass" (1911). An earlier and more expected Sargent work, his fashionable portrait of "Mrs. Henry White" (1883), appears in the next gallery because it was in a later biennial. But it's somewhat out of place in a gallery given largely to landscapes and genre scenes.
Among the second gallery's highlights are Childe Hassam's solid, commanding "Old House at Easthampton" (1916); Emil Carlsen's shimmering "Moonlight on a Calm Sea" (1915-1916), which in its near-abstraction recalls Whistler's nocturne paintings; and Ernest Lawson's "Boathouse, Winter, Harlem River" (1916), largely a study in whites.
Another portrait holds its own in this crowd, Cecilia Beaux's "Sita and Sarita" (about 1921). In this unconventional double portrait of a woman and her cat, the gazes of the two are equally compelling; the painting argues for a revival of interest in Beaux (1863-1942).
A Beaux contemporary also due for a revival is Arthur B. Davies (1862-1928). Although a champion of modern art, in personal style he was a romantic painter known for his somewhat mysterious pictures of nudes and animals in dreamy landscapes. His painting here, "Stars and Dews and Dreams of Night" (1927), shows that at his best he could create delicate, exquisitely modulated works.
Beginning to slip
Judging by this show, the biennials began to slip in the 1930s. But there are individual high points, such as Edward Hopper's splendid "Ground Swell" (1939), which shows four people at sea on a small boat but still manages to convey the essential isolation of each one. And there are some distinguished mid-century abstractions, including the three mentioned above and Will Barnet's jazzy "Multiple Images I" (1959).
The selection's also pretty spotty from the era of curated shows since 1969, partly because the giants cost too much and partly because the art scene's current pluralism tends not to produce giants.
Distinguished works include Joan Mitchell's 26-foot-long, Monet-like abstract landscape "Salut Tom" (1979), Robert Mangold's minimalist-oriented "Five Color Frame Painting" (1985) and the striped panels of Sean Scully's brooding, architectural-looking "Flyer" (1986). But most of the works from these years do not look as if they will survive the test of time.
The show, then, doesn't come near giving an overview of 20th-century American art. But it has its moments. It provides evidence that, as the century progressed, many museums found it increasingly hard to buy the best art, and that too many works go to the highest-profile museums. Surely the Corcoran could make better use than the National Gallery of one or two of those 200 Rothkos.
American art
What: "The 45th Biennial Exhibition: The Corcoran Collects"
Where: Corcoran Gallery of Art, New York Avenue and 17th Street N.W., Washington
When: Wednesdays through Mondays, 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. (until 9 p.m. Thursdays), through Oct. 18.
Admission: Suggested donation $3; $1 seniors and students; $5 families
Call: 202-639-1700
Pub Date: 9/03/98