 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|
|
May |
|
|
|
David Stern The first thing to notice about these paintings is their sheer physicality. As soon as you walk into the gallery the pungent, slightly sour odor of linseed oil lets you know that a lot of paint has been slung around. The canvases immediately bear this out and indeed come close to serving as wall sculpture for the density of paint they contain. This tactile dimension is as important to the work as the visual elements and produces the effect of chaos contained; albeit barely. But it�s interesting how the materiality of the paint transforms these pieces into objects while also defining and obscuring the figurative elements. To inquire of this work whether it is figurative or abstract goes right to the core of David Stern�s content. The answer, as evidenced in these paintings, resolves itself as a teasing equivocation. On the figurative side there is not a single piece that does not contain a direct reference to human figures. Additionally there is a subtle quality of light and shadow along with a measure of spatial depth at play in these paintings. Often, as in Braces and Shadows (44 x 52 inch sized canvas); the figures are posed askance and as viewed from below. This, plus the aggressive paint handling and the indistinguishable human figures, provides a psychological dimension to this work. The comprehensive effect is that these paintings assume a sense of forgotten images suggesting a sense of loss and sadness. Think of water damaged snapshots discovered in a long abandoned building. From the abstract side of the fence the psychological dimension is both heightened and compromised. The thickly robust paint obscures the figures and so compromises a specific emotional narrative. It is easy enough to get lost in the paint as a de facto presence, which is obviously part of the artist�s agenda. From this angle the emotions shift, becoming less tangible as expressed by the turbulent paint handling. Although each painting sets up a conflict of sorts between the figurative forms seeking recognition and the heavy paint handling frustrating the effort, both depend on each other for emotional expression. The subject matter, in and of itself is innocuous; just groups of indistinguishable figures arranged in casual poses. An interesting exercise is to stand some distance from the work and take in the figures. Then start walking in more closely and notice how they dissipate into the paint; much like what happens with Chuck Close�s paintings. This shift demonstrates Stern�s interest in preserving recognizable subject matter without allowing it to distract from the paint handling as the primary focus. Look at the self-portrait Stern includes wearing a red baseball cap. Up close his features are almost completely obscured in an abstract accumulation of heavy paint. After backing away you do see a portrait but one in which your viewpoint is comparable to looking through very thick, warped glass. Stern blends his colors quite well within the context of his painterliness resulting in mixtures that often defy a single definition. Look again at the self-portrait and notice that while a rich mixture of different flesh tones is evident there are also some intense bits of blue and red. Given this, the range of color is narrow from one painting to the next with an air of predictability. The blue sky colors, the reds, the whites, grays, blacks; even the flesh tones keep to a fairly comfortable array of chalky muddy tones. Considering the excellent way in which the color is constructed it would be interesting to see where these paintings would go if the palette were given greater breadth and depth. At first glance these paintings are comparable to Morris Louis. The obvious similarities are the vertical bands of thinly painted bright color. Although the artist confesses a relationship between her work and Louis (and also Barnett Newman) the comparison quickly fades. Louis�s work was comparatively more reductive, more centered and more evenly proportioned. Farb�s paintings are far more sensual and pulsate with a capricious visual rhythm where the subject matter, as presented in the multicolored loops of paint, suggests organic forms ranging from micro to macro-biology. Look at Those Cool September Mornings No 7 and how the forms seem to be falling on each other in a bunch to the right. A soft blue and transparent green form elegantly carry the left side of the canvas and their crossed arrangement is echoed in orange and red shapes to the immediate right. Two dark blue forms and a black one help to anchor the piece and a mass of thin multicolored bands pull together in an understated squeeze. In this piece, as in all her work, Farb not only varies her color but also the focus of the forms which is blurred or sharp by turns. This accomplishes two things; the first is to address the aforementioned visual rhythm. The second is to break up the space of the picture plane as the forms appear to shift in and out. The latter is accomplished by varying the size of the forms but more so through atmospheric perspective; i.e., the application of sharp and blurred focus. Another significant part of this is the casual manner in which these paintings were constructed. The choice of color, placement and size of the shapes appears to be intuitive yet with a correct measure of discipline. Because Farb gets the mix just right the work is imbued with a vibrant and energetic liveliness. However, the difference from one painting to another is consistently subtle. The exception is Those Cool September Mornings No 1, which maintains the forms but strips out the color, much like a color photograph printed as a black and white. The rest of the paintings keep the same mix of colors, with a similar varied intensity; albeit even as the dimensions of the canvases fluctuate. The danger is having the work become serialized in which it becomes difficult to distinguish one from another after you�ve left the exhibition. The other thing is that these paintings seem devoid of struggle. In other words Farb is clearly comfortable with her technique; perhaps too comfortable. This does not detract from the excellence of this work but leaves open the question of where the artist can go from here. But a look forward is difficult to divine because subtle change, as tied to the overt differences of hue and contrast and proportion between the forms, is central to Farb�s content. Another paradox playing into the content is that, for all their color, these paintings are essentially �colorless�. Look at any one piece with the exception of the black and white one and try to discern one or more overriding hues or color theme. Certain colors stand out in certain paintings given their brightness and darker contrast. But, because the forms are all vertical and linear none are able to totally dominate and thus define a piece. Given the size of the gallery, not to mention the intensity of the work, the exhibition is well presented. Farb varies her proportions from small to medium-large and the treatment accommodates either end of the range. Each piece is apportioned an adequate amount of real estate that provides the work �breathing room� which allows the show to make a comprehensive statement. Not a great deal has changed in Bill Fisher�s painting since his last show at this gallery in February 2002. The surfaces are still interesting and engaging. The palette continues to be confined to blacks, whites, reds and golden-green ochres. The color, as before, is not painted so much as it is constructed providing a paradoxical mixture of opaqueness and depth. The forms remain architectural and, in combination with the paint handling, suggest an urban esthetic. And, as in the earlier work, Fisher plays with figurative elements dropped in like bits of graffiti here and there. So what has changed? To begin with, Fisher has tightened up the architectural elements. The edges have become tighter and crisper such as in Three Diamonds. In this piece, which stands out for its departure from the rectilinear handling of the primary forms, the diamonds of the title create an ambiguous relationship between figure and ground. Do they offer portals to another space or do they float on the whitish ground? This piece offers an interesting and comparatively different take on space in that it is based on composition rather than atmosphere. Another difference for these new pieces is that more patterning is apparent. In some paintings such as Ladder this is obvious with the piano key-like treatment to the left side that divides the canvas vertically. But notice how Fisher plays with the form by echoing it as the ladder shape of the title buried in the paint handling. In Eighteen the patterning is far more environmental as part of the texture. Again the canvas divides vertically but in this piece the contrast is knocked back and the pervasive green slides underneath the gold diamonds to perform a figure/ground reversal. Fisher is one of those artists who bring change to his work at such a subtle pace it can only be measured after a number of years. Having said that, it is amazing how much mileage he gets while confining himself to a limited range of hues and forms. The most striking thing about these paintings is how the artist continually works the surfaces and simultaneously finds his way to a definition of color from one painting to the next. At face value the color combinations are rudimentary. But for Fisher, a red is not just red but an accumulation of several variations of the color. Look at Rust, for example, and how the red band to the right at first appears to be solid and flat. But take a closer look and notice how it glows with color and is otherwise animated by the effect. The same quality of red finds its way into the golden portion as a short uneven vertical line below the black square. But it also influences the ochre in the lower left corner as a sublimely pervasive tint. In painting after painting Fisher asserts his content in a wide variety of ways. This is best understood in the juxtaposition of definitive architectural forms bumping up against and being defined by the intuitive nature of the paint handling. The latter contains its own subtext of meaning in that the forms created within the paint read as light and humorous even as they are moodily ethereal. From this aspect each painting dresses the stage for a variety of emotional reactions that are as conflicting as the juxtaposition of the forms, color and paint handling. Comprehensively all of these qualities remain constant in Bill Fisher�s painting. Yet they are constantly in flux as applied to specific pieces and range from the overt to the understated. Robert Ryman is perhaps best known for having emptied everything out of painting to arrive at an absolute state of white. The very mention of his name conjures up the dualities of Minimalism and Conceptualism. But how did he arrive there? This show provides a large part of the answer in presenting Ryman�s drawings from 1957 to 1964. In an odd way this show compares to a Rothko exhibition that was held at the Pace Gallery on 57th street in the late 80s. That show provided a window into Rothko�s seminal work just prior to his color field paintings. This exhibition of Ryman�s drawings from the late 50s and early 60s offer the same sort of experience. Start with the facts. Ryman was originally a jazz musician; a composer for the saxophone who moved to New York in 1952. At that time he was first exposed to contemporary painting and, after picking up some basic art supplies, began his own �experiments�. By 1954 he gave up music to devote himself to making visual art and in 1957 made the self-determination that he was beyond �experiments� and on to something more substantial; hence the entry point for this show. As is apparent with this work he had a great interest in experimenting with a wide variety of non-traditional materials, approaches and techniques. At the same time you see an evolution from loose gestural painting to a more disciplined approach that includes the grid. But even with these latter pieces there a measure of intuitiveness at play which is never completely abandoned in this work. What is remarkable in the later work is how well it ties into his early interest in music. It�s as though he were working the same territory as jazz only within a visual context. Given who Ryman eventually became as an artist, two pieces in this show particularly stand out: Untitled (58.0721) and Untitled (58.003). The former suggests Clifford Still with perhaps a touch of Raushenberg (for the playful inclusion of Ryman�s last name) and despite its actual dimensions it would be easy to imagine this as an 8 x 8 foot painting. There is a commanding authority of self-confidence in the choice and placement of the forms along with colors. The second piece is interesting for its expressive stark contrast and simple placement of forms that also projects a reductive sensibility. This piece bears an oblique relationship to the work of another Robert: Motherwell. It is clear from the example of these two pieces that Ryman was aware of the art being made around 10th street at that time. Yet it seems inconceivable that these pieces could be made by the Robert Ryman of white painting fame and it is this very incongruity that provides a satisfactory measure of fascination. The drawing Untitled (61.0784) from 1961 represents a bridging piece of sorts linking Ryman to the New York School while also functioning as a precursor to his later white paintings. The thick impasto texture of the paint establishes a tie into the expressionism and the near emptiness of form links it the minimalism that was to follow. Study Z, completed the same year, more directly reveals Ryman�s conceptual beginnings. You see it in the use of the grid of fine white lines and the artist�s (again) mischievous placement of his name. It presents an interesting combination of whimsy, concept and gesture all rolled up together in a 10 x 10 inch drawing. A whole host of these followed in �62 and �63 in which intuitive gesture and the grid struggle to get along with each other while remaining separate entities. Ryman�s success in this varies but this provides the allure of witnessing the struggle of pulling the two together. The work represented in this show is far more interesting then the paintings and conceptual pieces for which the Robert Ryman is best known. In the broad span of work offered here there is a wonderful array of experimentation, failure and success. As a body, the work is fluidly in motion and you are given a privileged view of an artist�s personal journey over an 8 year period. With the paintings from the late 60s and throughout the 70s that followed, the journey was over; a result of the sterility of conceptualism and conformity nearly devoid of the lively sensuality expressed here. The effect is comparable to Cy Twombly who created some of the most memorable abstract expressionist paintings in 1951 and 1953 that were subsequently included in an exhibition at the Sperone Westwater Gallery several years ago. Those paintings, like the drawings in this show, were gutsy, unabashed and brimming with self confidence that later devolved into the light ephemeral and somewhat fatuous paintings that Twombly subsequently became famous for. But as with the exhibition of Twombly�s early paintings, this show opens a wonderful portal into Ryman�s thinking and development as an artist. Beyond that it holds up quite well on its own merits. Should you fail to see the work �live� a book of this work has been published, Robert Ryman Works on Paper 1957 - 1964 by Peter Blum Edition. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||||||
| |
||||||||||||
Copyright 2003, Abstract Art Online. All rights reserved. |
||||||||||||
|
||||||||||||
