(By Our Special Correspondent)

Three recent one-man exhibitions provide material for an interesting essay in contrast and comparison. There is, on the one hand, the work of an Auckland artist, Nelson Thompson, to consider.

In sharp contrast to the work essayed by Mr Thompson, we have a showing at the so-called "Cultural Centre Art Gallery", by Gordon Brown, a curiously introverted artist, whose work stands out in vivid contrast to that of Barry Brown and Don Driver, exhibited in the Centre Gallery.

Thompson is, essentially, a water-colourist, and a very good one; Brown, on the other hand, contrives at various media-gouaches, contes, water-colours and oils—but in none does he achieve the effect obtained by Thompson. Brown and Driver showed mostly oil paintings.

The work of these two young artists, Brown and Driver, is very experimental; lacking in any Indication as to either aims or future development, and, while some interesting effects are achieved, is generally of little import. I feel these two painters have a very long way to go yet. However, at least these two are moving somewhere; Brown gives one the impression that a sharp prod is needed to wake him up; his work is extremely repetitious in theme, design and effect.

Peculiarly animated work, vividly projected thought processes, as it were, are thrown at the viewer, who is rather at a loss to classify the author in terms of accepted cinteria.

Is Brown a futurist? Is he, as his titles lead one to suspect, having a go at social realism as well? Obviously he has been profoundly affected by contemporary European influences and trends In painting—as have, for that matter, Brown and Driver. All three, however, lean too heavily upon their masters.

In "Jacob's Ladder" and "First Breath of October," Brown shows us that he can combine a particular mood with freshness and cartoon-like vitality. In other work he is quite dead.

I visited, by the way, the so-called "Museum of Contemporary Art." I was amazed (with the exception of a Judy Cassals) to see so much down-right junk and spurious effusion. I'm afraid such works as "Interlobular Spaces," "X Mas (sic) in Hell," "Jan Uskopf," and "Spaceman" don't appeal to me. Neither does the price of 150 guineas asked for junk by the Director, tickle my fancy.