The Bermuda Society of Arts has mounted an exhibition of “contemporary” art at its greatly improved gallery in the City Hall. It is by a group of its member artists selected for the occasion by its exhibition committee. The Bermuda Society of Arts is an artists' cooperative not unlike the Arts Centre at the Dockyard, run and managed by its own artist members. Like the Arts Centre it has gone from strength to strength in recent years.

Unlike the Bermuda National Gallery, which has a responsibility to all Bermuda artists, whatever their individual artistic bent, the Society of Arts has every right to mount an exhibition of specifically oriented art if its members so wish.

The eight members chosen for the Invitational Exhibition have produced a largely “contemporary” and abstract show, a show that might have been mounted at any time in the last fifty years, but the meaning of the words “contemporary” and “modern” have been destroyed in a plethora of critic generated verbiage. Nevertheless, the works in this show compete favourably with those on display at the neighbouring Biennial in terms of painterly quality and technique.

The first work that catches the eye is a very large “installation” work by Kendra Ezekiel spread out on the floor. It as a classic, indeed ancient maze pattern. It is precisely - at least nearly precisely; some of it has already been kicked out of place laid out in pieces of paper meticulously crumpled into small balls of as nearly as possible even size.

It is exacting, deeply traditional in concept, and inevitably ephemeral. It is, indeed, at risk from passing feet from minute to minute. Along with other such pieces of recently trendy but short lived “installation art” it contradicts the venerable aphorism “ars longa, vita brevis.” One hardly sees the point of it.

Five works by the unclassifiable Will Collieson are scattered through the show by way of I wanted to say light relief. To describe this artist's work as light is to do it a grave disservice. It is almost invariably suffused with deep thought and profound humour and is thus far from light.

It provides relief nonetheless. Two of the works, “Monday Morning Washing” and “The Apartment Block”, are colourful, festive and speak for themselves.

“Support the Team” is grungy, sweaty, wry and replete with layers of suggestion. It also speaks for itself. His other two works are more in his usual complex three-dimensional collage style.

One, “The Measure of Man”, is dense and complex, the other, “Le Bain Matinal (Patent Pending)” is hilariously and presumably deliberately disjointed despite its precision of execution.

James Cooper?s archival digital prints are, as photographic works always are, a glimpse through the eye of the photographer. His, in common with his fellow photographers, is unique.

Some of his eight works are moments caught, some are moments cleverly staged, some are still and timeless. All have a quality that commands attention. They face off across the gallery with a set of four works by Charles Zuill, who has recently emerged from a long period of rather uninspired “earthworks” into a new period of technical experiment which has been nothing if not fascinating.

The works in this show challenge the eye in much the same way that the trompe l'oeil ceilings of South German and Austrian high rococo churches do.

One walks up and down, backwards and forwards without being able to determine where the three dimensional stops and the flat surface begins. Slightly out of step with the rest of the show is the set of ten charcoal works of Vernon Clarke. All are themed on reflections in gazing balls or reflective spheres.

They are surreal rather than abstract and are supremely technically challenging. For the most part the artist rises competently to the technical challenges he has set himself, but there are slips. As with so many of our artists, he hasn't been taught anatomy or has failed to learn it. When an artist undertakes the surreal for his style he should remember the exacting demands it enforces. The slightest technical failure mars the whole.

Lee Finch leads off his collection of abstracts with “White Canvas”, a work which instantly reminded me of a recent review by Holland Cotter in the New York Times of a retrospective of the work of Robert Ryman, whose prime was blessedly brief and occurred about forty years ago.

It was headlined “Exactly What About White Don't You Understand?” Mr. Finch's piece was lifted out of the derivative by being backlit. This gave the work an added dimension by giving it reverse depth in relation to the thickness and translucency of the paint. Five other mixed media works are well executed in a technical sense and fall into the category “There you have it, make what you will of it.”

For me, Mr. Finch's charcoal works were much more exciting. Repetitive rectangles and one circle of neat precision with explosive sprays of light and shade contained behind them commanded attention and remained in the memory in a way that only his “Which Circle would you be” of the mixed media works could match.

With one or two exceptions, this is an impressive show, almost invariably executed with technical proficiency and one that should certainly not be missed by anyone with an affinity for “contemporary” art.

As with most shows now, this one will last all too short a time. It closes on July 21.