OCEANIC ART: MASKS OF BEAUTY

PAINTER Paul Gauguin set in motion one of the main art trends of the 20th century when he decided that "the Greek [style] is the great error, beautiful though it is," and plunged off to Tahiti to capture the expressive power of primitive art. In the hands of such moderns as Painters Picasso, Matisse, Modigliani and Sculptors Brancusi, Henry Moore and Alberto Giacometti, this source of inspiration has not only produced new art; it has also caused primitive art itself to be reassessed. The rise of primitive works from artifact to art is currently being demonstrated by the first showing of the Baltimore Museum of Art's handsome 196-piece collection of Oceanic Art (see color page).

For its newest collection the Baltimore Museum is indebted to Alan Wurtzburger, 55, a wealthy Baltimore real estate man, and his wife Janet. Little more than three years ago, the Wurtzburgers' collecting urge was restricted to Pennsylvania Dutch spatterware and canary-yellow lusterware, but a trip to Africa opened their eyes to primitive art. "It has more variety, strength and impact than the contrived art of today," Collector Wurtzburger decided. But when the Wurtzburgers tried to collect representative pieces, they found that Africa as a source of primitive art has all but dried up. The best pieces had already drifted to dealers in London, Paris, Brussels and Amsterdam.

After giving Baltimore the best that they could assemble, the peripatetic Wurtzburgers decided two years ago to branch out to Oceanic art, went on a streamlined tour of the South and West Pacific islands. Again they found themselves collectors-come-lately. They did not hit a good lode until they reached Australia and found a Melbourne curator willing to sell his private collection. Says Wurtzburger: "We picked the eyes out of his collection." They filled it out with purchases in London and Paris.

Now the Wurtzburgers are off again, this time to Russia, to uncover choice works of Pacific Northwest Indian art collected by Russian seal hunters in Czarist days. "These days the last person who asks the Russians for something seems to get it," says Wurtzburger. "Maybe we'll be lucky."

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