Anima Mundi , St.Ives, exhibits Joy Wolfenden Brown and Carlos Zapata

 Anima Mundi is a serious art gallery. They hang the paintings with big gaps between them and small numbers that refer to titles on the information sheet which is printed in a tiny font, grey on grey, with quotations from famous people and art world jargon and they don’t use red dots to indicate sales. The prices are also serious - from £1,300 to £16,800.

At present, until October 19 for six weeks there are two very serious artists on show- Carlos Zapata being the filling on the middle floor between two floors of Joy Wolfenden Brown.

Joy Wolfenden Brown works she tells us spontaneously and spontaneously repeats an image of a lost looking afraid ghost - like woman. Apparantly I was not the only visitor to ask if she looks like this and she does a bit. I was aware that  if I was still working as an art therapist I would be thinking this person is for some reason stuck. She says there are slight changes so I would be asking about them. Then I see she has worked as an art therapist herself for ten years - so then I wonder does she interrogate herself for reasons why this image obsesses her?
There are some other works, very darkly indistinct with birds and feathers in them so perhaps the artist is beginning to break new ground.

Carlos Zapata is a skilled wood carver. Here he also returns repeatedly to a similar image - to kneeling supplicant small figures, many with no arms or feet. Colour is used on the wood, sometimes pale touches, sometimes intense hues or silver. We are told he recently suffered the death of a parent but which  one is strangely not disclosed. Maybe that’s why his recent figures seem so isolated and immobile, injured and joyless.They are carved in three dimensions but I feel drawn to only seeing them from the front. They seem like statues suited to a chapel, for contemplative introspection.

Comment in the visitors’ book is admiring and as written on tripadviser the work in this  gallery certainly offers a change,  in its gloomy exalted misery,  from the relentless optimism of many of the holiday souvenirs in other shows in other less serious shows in town.