The Desmond Fountain Gallery on Front Street is now the last professional art gallery in Hamilton. It is appropriate, and a tribute to Mr. Fountain?s generosity, that there should be a show of such diversity and quality there to celebrate the Christmas season.

The works to be seen in the show are for the most part small and aimed it the Christmas gift market, albeit mainly for the affluent buyer.

Aficionados of Sheilagh Head?s work will find six of her works to greet them on entering. ?Southampton Hillside? is in her best traditional style and glows with light.

This contrasts with the light in ?Tugboat?, one of those silvery grey days where the light seems almost without source.

?Springfield?, too, is bathed in that warm light peculiar to Mrs. Head?s work and only really seen early or late in the day. ?South Shore, Bermuda? is in her newer style of thick impasto that has worked best in her abstractions.

Here it produces depth problems.

Dan Dempster has taken his amazingly successful water sand and rock works, previously done in charcoal and chalk, and translated them to oil. With the exception of ?Prospero?s Pool?, a swirling composition that seems rather contrived, this change of medium is quite successful, though his rocks seem somewhat less hard and sharp than previously. Given the much greater durability of oils over works on paper in our unforgiving climate this seems to be a move in the right direction, both successful and promising better.

Returning to his strength Chris Marson here confines himself to watercolours and several are amongst his finest works. ?Haze? is wonderfully spare in treatment and extraordinarily evocative. In this case less is not only more, it is much more. ?Along the Point? is a vivid impression, also treated with the sparest of touches except in the foreground, which lends the work startling contrast. ?Passing Squalls? is a mountain of threatening thunderheads with streaks of backlit rain. It contrasts favourably with a similar study, ?Breaking Weather? that seems a little too pink for comfort.

The usually humorous touch in Will Collieson?s work is missing here. There are five works in a series titled ?Distressed?. They are made up of layers of pink and putty-coloured fabric heavily distressed (frayed and worn). One would have been enough. Similarly ?Remnants of a Real World?, a set of three boxes, each partitioned into four parts containing small items of hardware, screws, nails, nuts, bolts and the like has a certain fascination. Careful inspection reveals a button once apparently sold in the old Emporium, the building in which the gallery is now to be found. The effect is enhanced by the occasional inclusion of survivor parts of sundry deceased fauna. ?Fly Me to the Moon? is an American flag overlaid with distressed fabric and looks as though it might have well undergone such a flight. ?Someone Left my Cake out in the Rain? is a vertical triptych with not much to do with soggy cake.

All in all these are rather gloomy works entirely devoid of the light sardonic humour usually enlivening Mr. Collieson?s work. Perhaps the stress of the Christmas season overwhelmed it.

Molly Smith?s work is usually so sugary, sweet and charming that one almost winces. ?Hayden Cottage?, however, is an exception and has an almost forlorn air that is evocative. As a subject for artists the Hayden buildings are more often abused. This is one of Mrs. Smith?s best works.

An overheard remark, ?There are more misses than hits,? sums up Jonah Jones? collection of paintings. All of them looked rushed. Mr. Jones has been painting with Chris Marson lately and the effect shows to advantage in his work, particularly in ?Boats at Dockyard? and ?Rock Study at Devonshire Bay?. The influence is all to the good.

The usually relaxed work of Diana Amos tends to become tight in small canvasses and here also leans to the touristy in content. ?Punt with Blue Seats? stands out amongst her work for its relaxed simplicity and cool white indirect light.

The constraints of the small canvas show up in Otto Trott?s work as well.

Only the fine fronds in ?Palmettos? were not affected. Mr. Trott is at his best when he has room to be lush.

Surprisingly Eric Amos provides the humour in this show. Usually a serious painter of fauna in their home habitat, he here puts common farm animals in mildly absurd situations. ?Approaching the Big Jump? shows a cow looking towards a large rising moon as though it were about to jump over it in best nursery rhyme style. ?How Now, Brown Cow?? is a black cow looking questioningly at a brown cow. And so they go. All are a delight and perfect Christmas gift fare.

The bulk of the show, in more ways than one, consists of the sculpture of Desmond Fountain. For those who like safari subjects, however, there are a series of dry point etchings of African game in their natural settings. For the old-fashioned lecher who was reputed to have invited young women ?to look at his etchings? there is another series of dry point etchings in the ?what the butler saw? tradition including one through a keyhole.

The sculptures come in all sizes, from tiny to life size. They include all the styles and subjects for which Mr. Fountain is internationally known.

Despite his fame and obvious commercial success there are weaknesses that run through all his work. Lines in flesh are the result of the juxtaposition of two convex masses. Mr. Fountain seems to think that a quick slash into the clay or wax achieves this effect. It doesn?t. Hands and feet are the bane of any artist. I was surprised to notice at the Rafael show at the National Gallery in London that even such a master had a problem painting hands until almost the (early) end of his life. Mr Fountain?s hands and feet tend to be soft on anatomy and the hands particularly tend to be a little overscale with clumsy, rather spatulate fingers. As a rule the knuckles are drawn with slashes into the medium rather than built of flesh.

His most interesting and characterful works are of children intent on their various forms of play. They have character, presence and the charm of childhood innocence at least until they reach puberty when at least the girls strip of their clothes and lie about in louche poses. The best work in the show for me was ?I?ve Caught Some Whoppers?, a small boy of perhaps six in rumpled shorts and reversed baseball cap with a catch of small fish. His evident concentration and delight in his small haul is enhanced by having one toe curled upwards.

Bermuda is enjoying the output of an unusually large selection of good artists. The artists in this show are the relatively long established amongst them. It is easy to see why. It is a varied and interesting show, conveniently situated for a quality respite from rounds of Christmas shopping.