Harmonica, 2013
oil on canvas
70 x 74 inches
U-Shapes, 2013
oil on canvas
40 x 36 inches
Blue Painting, 2013
oil on canvas
115 x 92 inches
What keeps these paintings from being Ab Ex renditions (rehash)? Color, concept, and scale. Then Richter? (Color cacophony and smear). Then Now? White field. Web. Black. White. Cartoon.
With an attitude of forgiveness and a welcoming spirit of historical revision, I continue to ponder the significance of these paintings. My initial thought continues to be why I am being asking to think, once again, in 2014 about performativity and painting, a history, at least in Western art historical terms that begins with Jackson Pollock about seventy years ago. Of course, we could also consider the general movement of Gutai, a Japanese tradition of “action” painting most recently celebrated at the Guggenheim museum.
If the first run (let’s say between the late forties and the late fifties) had to do, crudely, with the aftermath of World War II (a sprawling globe devastated by the actions of a few), then I suppose I can also wonder about the aftermath of interconnectivity via internets now. This brings me to the suite of John Williams paintings recently displayed at Richard Telles. Whereas the earlier version of action painting called into question the very essence of being and materiality against a malleable surface (layer upon layer upon layer ad nauseum), William’s paintings operate with a kind of thinness that never leaves the initial ground too far away. They are, in fact, much lighter, and I can’t help but wonder in another way humorous and lyrical because of this. Certainly, what I know of the artist and the process for making these, I can at least suggest such conflations of light and lightness of being. However, because I am not privy to the process in the direct viewing of this work, I can only speak to what is in front of me, as I can archaeologically unpack this visual record. And I can’t… So, I revert to stylistic variations of historical predecessors (Pollock, Shiraga, Kazuo, Sasburo et al and contemporaries (Butzer, Reafsnyder et al) who continue to shove paint in our faces and ask us to think about it. While it’s often a pleasure to contemplate paint for its own sake and what it can do as a result of an artist’s hand (and body), I don’t sense a conscience with work like this, that is to say what exactly I am supposed to think about. Certain details (fragments of each one) head this direction.
No comments:
Post a Comment