Peterloo Gallery :   A review by Waldemar Januszczak of The Guardian 1979 : 
The fascinating thing about BBC's Mastergame is the way in which our chess-masters are made to think aloud before each move, a development which certainly ensures greater audience participation than usual. For the maestro in us all, that part of the mind which clamors for the chance to get in its tuppence worth, is first pampered and then frustrated. Shouting instructions at the TV might be an ultimately fruitless pursuit, but at the time of happening it can be surprisingly satisfying. Much the same can be said of Terry Duffy's Art Games. Watching one in progress is like looking over the shoulders of the two chess-players making notes as they go along. You watch as their plans for the work of art come to naught, as they find fresh inspiration in their partners' contributions and generally surround themselves with more creative stimuli than they're used to. Among these must be included the viewers, bursting with opinion.   Not that there are any prizes at stake; the game's reward and fun is the inspiration of playing. Having agreed on a set of "rules", a time-span, the materials to be used and the area to be employed, the artists involved take alternate moves or rather make alternate contributions to an artwork. Unlike Richard Hamilton and Dieter Roth's collaborations, it is not the final product which is exhibited but the processes involved in its production.   Appealing to anybody who enjoys games the idea has led Terry Duffy to areas as diverse as a derelict house (time allowed, two weeks) and a piece of A2 paper ( time allowed, three hours). The results have been photographed and arranged along the walls of Manchester's Peterloo Gallery as a hint of things to come. The Art Games can be enjoyed live at the gallery over the next fortnight. Preconceptions are obviously out of place; all that can be said for certain is that by comprehensively involving others in the work, the artist's challenging our worship of the individual artist and our deeply-rooted belief that a spectator's place is four feet away from the gallery wall.