Delightful Surprises

The first impression of Montreal Expo-goers is one of gigantic exhibition structures, lofty space domes and minirails. But as visitors are discovering in increasing numbers as the summer wears on, the 1,000-acre site is also studded with dozens of delightful surprises in the form of 20th century sculpture, ranging from Aristide Maillol's 1908 Desire to a 1967 blue, geometric Dyad by Saskatchewan's Robert Murray. And while most of the Expo sculpture executed in the 1960s would not raise an eyebrow at Venice or in a far-out Manhattan gallery, it is provoking plenty of conversation in Montreal, where many fairgoers are receiving their initiation into the nuances of contemporary art (see color pages opposite}.

The sculpture at Expo is mostly co temporary, explains Arts Adviser J. Jacques Besner, because "every exposition provides a chance for the world to take inventory of man's progress. Back in 1900, Paris showed Rodin and all those boys, so we felt that in 1967, we owed it to contemporary artists to show what they could do." Canada's Expo corporation commissioned 40 Canadian sculptors to design $1,000,000 worth of sculpture to fill the central promenades and the Canadian and theme pavilions; Canadian industry kicked in with another $1,500,000 worth of commissions for more than 15 sculptors. All are Canadians except for the U.S.'s Alexander Calder, whose gigantic $200,000 stainless steel Man on the International Nickel Co. plaza greets Expo visitors as they get off the metro at the Place des Nations.

Taut Crossbow. The Calder is not an unmitigated success, partly because it was necessary to blunt its knifelike edges with heavy reinforcements to enable it to withstand the brisk winds that blow off the St. Lawrence. It suffers, like most Expo sculpture, from comparison with the bizarre silhouettes of the pavilions. Nonetheless, most fairgoers like Calder's Man. Murmured one miniskirted coed, gazing up at it last week: "I like the strength and the way it springs up. It has power, like a human being. Flowers spring up, but not in the same way."

Virtually all of the 62 participating nations have matched the Canadians by ornamenting their own pavilions, the malls in front of them, and often their rooftops with works by native sculptors. Some, like the West Germans, have built entire miniature sculpture gardens, which invite the visitor in to linger. Others have focused attention on one major piece, like Switzerland's Bernhard Luginbuhl's tautly drawn Crossbow, which, while popular with children, elicits nervous twitches from some adults. Said a Binghamton, N.Y., lady: "Everybody's scared of it. They're afraid it's going to move."

Furor & Fantasy. The ten slender, melancholy men and women who tower above display drums in the British pavilion draw awed reactions such as "magnificent." The gay ceramic figures created by Pravoslav and Jindriska Rada for the roof garden of the Czech pavilion are favored companions for souvenir snapshots. The liveliest furor has been stirred up by the "Fantasy Garden" atop the French pavilion, which features Niki de Saint-Phalle's bouncy papier-machelike manikins engaged in combat with the machines of Jean Tinguely. "Fiendish!" sniff elderly English matrons. "Great, wild, erotic!" says a Montreal college-student Expo guide.

But for all the fun with fantasy, Expo crowds are also showing a healthy liking for good old-fashioned realism. At the International Sculpture Garden on the Ile Ste. He1ene, which includes 55 works from 17 countries, four out of five fairgoers applaud Ivan Chadre's Stones Are the Arms of the Proletariat. "I can relate to it," says one Ontario housewife pushing her two-year-old in a gocart.

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