Two Quirky Kindred Spirits Calder, MirÛ Exhibit Highlights Similarities in Their Work by Gary Tischler A visitor from Pittsburgh peered closely at the sculpture in the National Gallery of Artís Sculpture Garden. ìI donít know what that is, but you know, I know what that is,î he said. He was looking at Joan MirÛís ìGothic Personage, Bird-Flash,î a heavy work with, if you look for them, aspects that suggest certain forces of nature. The sculpture, a late work by MirÛ, has whatís described as ìsuggestive formsî and is characteristic of MirÛís imagery, which he said was ìalways born in a state of hallucination.î Across the way, beyond the fountain, is the bright, booming ìCheval Rouge (Red Horse)î by Alexander Calder, executed in 1974, firmly planted like steel into the ground. With its tall legs and bright color, this so-called ìstabileî is meant to knock your eye out on a sunny day, or even a cloudy one. ìI want to make things that are fun to look at, that have no propaganda value whatsoever,î Calder said of the piece. These two sculptures donít exactly call to each other, at least on the surface. Maybe itís because they seem somewhat planted, wingless. But their intended fun an d hallucination are the great inspirations behind universally appealing art, not to mention the stuff made for and by children. The two worksósize asideówouldnít altogether fit side by side in the terrific, fun and hallucinatory exhibition ìCalder MirÛ,î now at the Phillips Collection. For one thing, they were made after 1948, which is when the exhibition basically stops. For another thing, theyíre a little too earthbound, stoic and solid for the display. ìCalder MirÛî stretches to find the inspiration behind the works of two great modernist artists, one a big and expansive American, the other a small, edgy, sly Spaniard. What the exhibitionójointly curated by the Phillips Collection and the Foundation Beyeler in Switzerlandósucceeds in doing is not so much prove a case as highlight the similarities and complementary aspects of the two artistsí work. Calderís sculpture, which received a comprehensive retrospective at the National Gallery of Art a decade or so ago, has always been about motion, and not just because he makes mobiles as part of his art. In MirÛís paintings, you can see the same things on the canvas and wall, where the art is all about different lines in motion, like musical notes. Itís difficult to say if one is better than the other. The exhibition is not about a competition, but a friendship as a well a mutual inspiration. Thereís no question that since they met in the 1920s as cross-town artists in Paris, the two men became friends. Their correspondence attests to the warmth and affection that was part of their connection. But even if you did not know MirÛ from Morocco or Calder from Connecticut, you would see the connections in their art in this exhibition. The Phillips display is about that old clichÈ of kindred spirits. Both men loved toys, working with and making them. Both set shapes into motion, and not just around the corner, but into the cosmos. Both created lines, either on paper or with wires. And both were funny, always a pleasant surprise in a museum, but unaccountably unpopular among critics. They had an appreciation for things that wiggled, that looked odd and funny, and that made you smile and laugh. Just look at Calderís snake and duck, his spider, his little figures, and compare them to all of the shapes and creatures that inhabit MirÛís large canvasses. The two men did collaborate twice, once at the Worldís Fair in the 1930s, and again in 1947, when they both received commissions from a luxury hotel in Cincinnati, an opportunity to think and make big things. The results of the Cincinnati project are hereóMirÛís huge and densely populated mural as well as Calderís ìTwenty Leaves and an Apple,î marking the first time the two works have left Cincinnati. Thatís a treat by itself. But Calderís murals and flying fish on the Phillipsís Gho Gallery staircase, thatís a treat tooówatched over and caressed by MirÛís big eyes. The two pieces energize the place and make it magic. Hallucinatory and fun. Exactly so. ìCalder MirÛî runs through Jan. 23 at the Phillips Collection, 1600 21st St., NW. For more information, please call (202) 387-2151 or visit www.phillipscollection.org. Gary Tischler is a contributing writer for The Washington