Old Bond Street on a muggy Tuesday evening. It’s hard to find the Alan Cristea at first as you realise that all the galleries look pretty much the same. It seems that there are a number of private viewings on the go tonight. Well turned out women clutching their white wine walk between the shows as men laugh and shake hands as though they’re all long lost friends. What do they talk about? Who knows. It interests me nonetheless.

Being based at 31 Cork Street for 13 years Alan Cristea has established himself as a renowned figure in dealing contemporary prints. This has been illustrated by the fact the gallery space has been expanded to include a new exhibition space at number 34 as well. However, Milroy’s show is confined to one room only. It’s very small. One wall of the room is taken up by mediocre oil paintings of various objects and scenes: Shoes, a fan, a girl guide uniform, a few unidentified landscapes. Other works are hung from the ceiling as an installation, creating some sort of two-dimensional mobile.

This collection of banners is positioned facing a large painting of an armchair. Ooooh. I see. As the viewer I must imagine myself sitting snugly in a comfy armchair taking in all these completely moving things and really understand the artist’s self. Instead, I stand and see irrelevant and meaningless objects that have been painted with the technique of a C class GCSE student. 

This may sound harsh. But unfortunately it’s true. I fully get the concept that these items and scenes must mean something to Milroy. To me they are just pointless images hung up for the sake of it. The fact they are so tamely executed just adds to the disappointment. The sheet of guff that was present as you walked in states “As the visitor walks back and forth in front of this installation, the images shift kaleidoscopically, stirring up in the visitor’s mind a sense of self”. Really? It reminded me more of a teenage girls cork notice board, made up of irreverent photos and scraps of memories that mean nothing to anyone other than herself. I don’t deny the personal importance and sentimentality in doing this. I did the same as university. The point is I wouldn’t build it up into something it isn’t, and assume everyone else would want to see into my really quite mundane life.

Give this a miss unless you are desperate for a glass of warm white wine or the company of people who totally baffle you.

Until 10^th October

Alan Cristea Gallery
34 Cork Street
London
W1S 3NU