British artist Andy Goldsworthy began his career by using his own body, and his latest exhibition features a small gallery holding photographs and films of the artist in his twenties, performing in the landscape as he spits, throws rocks into the air and covers his naked body in wet black sand. A Super 8 film from 1976 shows him barefoot, strolling across a pebbly beach as his bell bottoms become increasingly soggy. The piece has retro-hippie charm but also reveals his debt to older land artists, like his compatriot, Richard Long.
Goldsworthy reprises these early actions in his recent work, which veers from dully redundant to imaginatively renewed. A whimsical stop-motion video casts the artist as a cartoon mole, digging his way through autumn leaves piled by a roadside. A photographic triptych pictures him going from an upright stance on a rocky outcrop to leaning forward so precariously that only the wind seems to keep him from falling. As usual with Goldsworthy, these latest efforts embody the relationship between man and nature with economic lyricism.