Allen Jones, Anselm Kiefer, Peder Balke and Moroni

A busy weekend of catching up on viewings. The Kiefer show at the Royal Academy was astonishing.I had no previous knowledge of his work and went twice to try to get to grips with it. The size of the work is overwhelming and cumulatively highly impactive. It seems logistically impossible that some of the works were able to be transported to London without damaging them. The work is impossible to summarise; perhaps one can say that work which compels thought on the part of the viewer has achieved something worthwhile. He clearly has artistic ability and imagination and the whole of German history to play with as his subject matter.

The 19th century Norwegian artist, Peder Balke, at the National Gallery is fascinating as well, but in a different sense. Unknown not just to me but I suppose to most people at the show at the National Gallery (free), he had a narrow talent to display the achievements of Creation particularly around the North coast of Norway and in the desolate Finnmark. The show served as a useful geography lesson. Beyond that, it intrigued, but only moderately. He seemed not to have tussled with the human figure , at least not in the pictures in this show, and there are limits to how many times one can sensibly goggle at the jagged cliffs of that inhospitable North coast.

Allen Jones in the Burlington Galleries at the back of the Royal Academy was, alas, a disgrace. A truly ghastly exhibition; far too large as a show and in rooms which were far too large for almost anything smaller than full-scale Kiefer specials. One wonders what the organisers were thinking of. The notorious human furniture pieces were there and it was of course interesting to see work which had seemed so shocking long ago; a few of the paintings were fine in their slick, tricky way. The majority of the sculptures were beyond parody. The final room barely merited a glance. Judging by the fact that, on a Saturday morning, I was almost the only person viewing the show, others have not been too tempted.

Moroni  at the Royal Academy was a quiet joy. Subtle, skilful, high quality work; one felt like a nascent connoisseur seeing such attractive pictures.The only drawback is that horrid glass staircase up to the rooms.