Entrance to MASSMoCA, North Adams, MA |
On April 8, 2007, Sol LeWitt passed
away.
With him
went his ever-engaged mind; the seeds of creativity which took him from one drawing,
one sculpture, one photograph, one word to the next with seeming ease.
In 1968,
he created his first wall drawing at the opening of the Paula Cooper Gallery, a
gallery which still represents his work.Sol’s Paragraphs on Conceptual Art were published in Art Forum
magazine in 1967. Sol’s Sentences on Conceptual Art were published in New York’s, 0-9
in 1969 and in England’s Art & Language in May of the
same year. Written with respect to his own work, manifestos for his own
art-making needs, these words reached Biblical applicability to art of the time
very quickly. He never claimed to be the Father of Conceptual Art.
Eadweard
Muybridge influenced Sol. Below is Muybridge’s exemplary contact print of the
Cockatoo in flight. It makes perfect sense that Sol might understand the logic
and inevitability of change from one photographic frame to the next. At the
same time, Sol recognized the sameness as demonstrated by his own early video
piece of a nude woman, who has no identity, walking toward a camera frontally
with no shadow, no angle that hinted at dimension. Only white was behind her.
His nude stills of a woman walking forward implied the same kind of stop action
movement.
Eadweard Muybridge, Cockatoo, Bird in Flight, 1872-85, Plate 758 from "Animal Locomotion. " 1887 |
Sol’s reputation evolved out of his
invention of spare simple formulated systems applied to many contexts.
Sometimes seen as minimal art, his cube sculptures qualified then and still do
as a reason for being themselves. He made them at first on an extremely small
scale; he glued the struts together and painted them. Like any artist, he
worked within his means; at the time, he confessed once that he did not have
much money.
His
drawings were also concerned with formulated systems for which he eventually
could make instructions so that he could detach himself from them; he could
also mold the same drawings to different surfaces depending on how he
envisioned the surface being used. He could expand his imagination of his
imagery, his ever-changing vocabulary. This is the point at which the drawings
leapt to the wall.
Although
almost uncountable exhibits of his walls drawings have occurred, the 25 Year
Retrospective of Sol’s wall drawings, which opened on November 16, 2008, at
MASSMoCA, North Adams, MA, is exceedingly special. It was the result of five
years of planning through Yale University Art Gallery, Williams College Museum
of Art, MASS MoCA and Sol, who designed the placement of the walls and the
placement of the drawings using a small model. The exhibit absorbs three floors
of one building of the huge MASSMoCA complex; the building was renovated
exclusively for the show.
Given
the nature of the concept of the wall drawing, Sol birthed a wealth of
possibilities or ideas within the concept. The exhibition at MASSMoCA offers a
selection from the over one thousand drawings for which he has created instructions.
The instructions
for Wall Drawings fit into the context described by one of his sentences on
Conceptual Art:
“28. Once
the idea of the piece is established in the artist's mind and the final form is
decided, the process is carried out blindly. There are many side effects that
the artist cannot imagine. These may be used as ideas for new works.”
Wall Drawing #11, 1969, detail of exact center |
Wall
Drawing #11, 1969, presents itself at
the entrance to the first “Early Work” floor of the three floor exhibit. In
appearance, the graphite (always pencil #9H) wall drawing seems flat, even and
uneventful. Then one’s eyes adjust and the intrigue is unavoidable. The closer
one moves towards the wall, an entire world of detail widens to reveal itself.
The viewer cannot possibly take in the whole drawing on the same level of
detail. The instructions for this drawing are simple (as are they all): “Wall
divided horizontally and vertically into four equal parts. Within each part,
four kinds of lines (in four directions) are superimposed.” The size of the
wall for this drawing can vary. But its ownership cannot, as is true for all
wall drawings. This particular set of instructions, when applied in various
forms throughout his career, became his signature by default.
Flanking
the first drawing is a multi-sectioned one using color pencil leads and
graphite. The directions for this one are as elemental as those for #11, but the
patterning changes. The regularity of drawn lines creates an unpredictable,
unexpected pattern formation, which transforms the drawing into a study of
texture, arising purely from the commitment to process. The way in which the
wall is divided into each section, where the combination of pencils and the
directions of lines change, like the blink of eye, alters the way in which the
lines are perceived.
“24.
Perception is subjective.”
Each
individual wall drawing propagates another. Turn the corner and the textures,
patterns, density of lines modify the flat surfaces.
Walls.
These are walls.
On another
wall, four vertical columns of graphite lines are separated by four inches.
Adjacent to that six vertical columns, sharing the same edges, using color and
graphite lines in overlaid diagonal and vertical and horizontal directions, adjusts
the perception of the wall drawing where columns are separated. One drawing strengthens
the other. The aesthetics don’t matter. The impact does. The Zen of them
matters. That they embrace the viewer is celebratory.
Each
floor of the exhibit is L-shaped. The areas are arranged so that at least two,
considering both sides, are the longest continuous area for display. The remaining
walls are divided and, as a result, intimate spaces are created. On the latter walls,
the repetition is not the endgame. But the longer spaces where larger walls stand
explode with beauty, subtlety, and paradoxical tenderness. Somehow repetition
is comforting. Even though each part within the repeated group of units is
different from another, the core units are based on the same principles. So the
repetition simply seems like it happens, although it actually doesn’t.
Evolutions. Evolutions. Evolutions.
Unfolding imagistic poetry.
If one
wanted to talk permutations, one could. A permutation is a word for analysis
rather than appreciation.
“11.
Ideas do not necessarily proceed in logical order. They may set one off in
unexpected directions, but an idea must necessarily be completed in the mind
before the next one is formed.”
Not straight vertical lines
approximately 10” long equal rain.
The adjacent drawing of randomly crossing
graphite lines is like ice.
Crystalline hard form cracking next
to a gentle purring slipping of water against glass.
Graphite or colors: red, yellow,
blue.
Alternately,
from wall to wall, the potential for intimacy becomes an explosion of
controlled expressivity. Why not? Turn the lines into vectors, use a different
material, undo and strengthen what has already been discovered. This is the drive
of the artist whose mind is unfettered, who applies no bounds within the
boundaries he sets. Whose art speaks to him and tells him where to go next,
what to do next. And whose heart is so large that accommodating a relentless
switching of gears might be troublesome at times but never ceases to be
grounded and shaped and dealt with as viable direction, both literally and
figuratively. (Sol would have said those last four words.)
The
model for the retrospective is so small; perhaps 30” wide x 36” long x 10” deep,
in three parts, one for each floor. The actual rooms though are oriented to the human body. Sure the walls are twelve feet tall
to accommodate the ready-made floor to ceiling height. It doesn’t matter that
the walls aren’t any taller. The constancy of image requires an input of
humanity in order to be ingested. Not being able to reach the top of a wall
does not mean that the size of the drawing is meant to be overwhelming. It is
merely a means to lay out the combinations in full swing (Sol would have that)
so that the surprise of pattern is blatant and the drawing becomes a dance
rather than one image idea next to another.
The colors
of the walls metamorphose as do the impact of the instruments using to draw give
punch. An inexplicable extroversion abounds, espousing a belief in the wonder
of the line as surpassing the necessity for maintaining a kind of “technique’.
It is laughable to put Sol’s capacity for using line in the same sentence as
technique. The power of the use of process and idea render technique an
antiquated term.
“19.
The conventions of art are altered by works of art.”
Logical moves: pencil to crayon
to pencil again.
What was learned with the tools
is reflected in the change of image.
Which is, in toto, his vision,
only visible when the total work is seen in toto.
“20.
Successful art changes our understanding of the conventions by altering our
perceptions.”
The
utilization of the wall is complete no matter whether the idea calls to use
marks on the entire wall or pull away from the edges of the wall. The emptiness
is as important as participation. The emptiness allows the image to be framed.
The frame is in proportion to the image. It is all measured. It is all
intuited. It is all felt.
When the
thin pencil lines expand outwards, the patterns expand. The distance between
the viewer and the image can be greater for detecting the overall patterning
made with repeated gestures. All measured, all regulated, all designed, all
felt. Close up the expanded pencils lines never retract into old patterns.
Ain’t no way. Because a new drawing has arisen.
“21. Perception of ideas leads to
new ideas.”
Expansion
and contraction become thematic hinges throughout the pencil drawings. The
fluctuation creates a means for occupying the spaces between the lines (Sol
would have said that) to push through even adjustments towards larger and
larger graphic explosions.
Grander statements.
None more important than the ones
that came before.
Ink and paint added to the collection
of artist’s media.
Layers of pencil, layers of ink.
Coincidental principles of
applying them.
“27. The concept of a work of art
may involve the matter of the piece or the process in which it is made.”
Wall Drawing #51, 1970, detail |
The
later pencil works developed into designs of other shapes. Strange aberrations
within the whole yet evidence of the willingness to stretch and loosen up and
unwind, even though the lines are straight, overlapping. And true to a source
of form. Sol’s early drawings went through a mannerist phase when he verbally
described placements of lines and/or points on walls and those words were
written where the lines and/or points were placed. This perhaps is the
beginning of the development of his concept of shape, isolated shapes on walls
and shapes derived in relation to points on walls.
The
media for drawing shapes were the same as the ones for drawing lines. Shapes
were just shapes. Yes, the emptiness was filled with emptiness or crayon. But
the shapes were a way to separate out the geometry illuminated by the linear
analysis of architectural points as in the early chalk drawing, #51. This was a
part of his training. Yet, when he stepped out of the geometry of architectural
training, he was in a zone where his spirit spoke more than his knowledge.
The
bases for his entire oeuvre exist on the first floor. One can see the way
visual ideas penetrate all stages of his work. His vision is only visible when
the total work is seen in toto. This is the reason that grasping the pencil
wall drawings from the earliest period is vital to understanding the remainder
of the wall drawings. And it is especially important given the way that his
work is laid out in this museum context. This retrospective is different from
any other.
The
influx of ink as a medium was significant in his growth out of pure line. He
covers more area more quickly. He layers the ink to produce colors that are
produced from RYB, yet become expressionistic. A secondary palette: purples, greens, blues arriving from a
logically processed palette. Seemingly less regulated. More free. More in tune
with a world where the self blooms through doing what one loves.
“25. The
artist may not necessarily understand his own art. His perception is neither
better nor worse than that of others.”
The
next step in Sol’s
image making, when the ink-wash shape-oriented drawings began, the architectural
space is stretched and emphasized by the natural expanse accompanying the
drawings in it. The drawings become bold statements rather than invitations to move
in and examine the details, even though one does.
In this
exhibit, the way in which the specific walls are arranged on the floor make
just as much sense, if not more sense, than the basic spatial structure of the
building. Even the lighting, thought it
has been criticized, makes sense. The floorboards and the long florescent tube
lighting are perpendicular to the verticality of the walls on which the
drawings are. The windows magnify the regularity of the drawings and become a
backdrop for the exquisite color performance in front of them, a backdrop for
the play whose characters are the drawings. The results of the physical motion
of installation emanate from the drawings. The ambient
sounds, such as distant sound art, people talking, foot falls on the floor
above or on the stairs are enough to offset the quietude that the wall drawings
project. Although Sol likened his work to the music of Bach, especially early
on, and no doubt he played music when he was working, no music comes out of the
drawings. Only meditative silence.
Wall Drawing #51, 1970, detail |
The
third floor
display, dealing with Sol’s Late Period, is replete with painted shapes. Paint
cannot be washed over in layers like ink can be. The acrylic paint is placed in
separate shapes. The first wall drawing seen upon entering the floor is a
mixture of the various shapes that he has used throughout his art making career:
arcs, rectangles, concentric circles, curves (or not straight lines) which form
saw-tooth edges against rectangles on a third or so of the wall. The colors
employed here are exuberant, bright and overwhelming; ready to be seen at close
range and at the same time only appreciated at a distance. Perpendicular to
this wall is a wall drawing of a yellow isometric shape, whose sides are
painted with green, blue and red. The shape lies on a field of orange.
One
cannot sit and appreciate these for long. The tendency is to want to move on.
There is nothing to contemplate. The world is loud.
The flip
side of the opening wall is the totally enveloping black and white “Parallel
Curves,” #999, 2001. How extraordinarily expressive and free this drawing is in
contrast to the multi-color collective wildness on the wall’s other side. The
rigor of the curves translates into constrained shapes which simultaneously flow,
move and melt into one another. This drawing’s intent seems to be closely
derived from the pencil drawings of his early period, without borders but truly
restrained. The curves on the upper edge leave the surface; on the bottom edge,
they create new shapes.
Wall Drawing #999, 2001 (right) and #1005, 2001 (left) |
Opposite
these curves is the quadri-color “Splat,” #958, 2000. It is longer than “Parallel
Curves.” It mixes straightness and fluidity on uneven terms; one does not know
how to understand its makeup except perhaps in terms of a map, or of earth,
air, water and fire. Our earth’s core.
As the
dates of the pieces change, the treatment of the themes changes in size and
approach. Iterations of original pencil drawing of four squares; lines in four
directions in four squares, for which he is the most famous, appear: lines make
the shapes, the shapes become the color and the colors become the shapes.
Singularly
outstanding is an absolutely elegant single curve that divides the wall on
which it is drawn into two distinct shapes. The upper is painted in black matte
and the lower in glossy acrylic paint. One surface conveys two messages:
absorption and reflection. Polar opposites. Simplicity and depth. Wholeness and
duality. Calmness of yin and yang without the disparity of this side and that
sharing a common edge. Sol’s Yin and Yang. Opposite this is a set of twelve
“Wavy Lines” painted with the same medium: the curves are horizontal, vertical
and diagonal, activating forty inch squares with the same kind of two phase
blackness, the same kind of unity.
Wall Drawing #822, 1997 |
And then
beckons the grandeur of the 1998 “Loopy Doopy,” Wall Drawing #880, the drawing
that was opposite the elevators at the entrance of the Whitney Retrospective in
1999, where the colors used were purple and blue. At MASS MoCA, the variation
is green and orange. Loopy Doopy, as the name implies, hints at Sol’s humorous
side.
Imagine the glimmer of a smile on
his face, for instance, when he would say to someone in a conversation: “Drop
me a line sometime.”
The
similarity that “Loopy Doopy” has with “Parallel Curves” exists; but, in a way,
the curves are less serious, more freely drawn, less introverted.
Behind “Loopy
Doopy” are two drawings that are the logical step from the ones that are
contiguous with this section of the room. One is a black matte and glossy
version of the four squares with lines going in different directions. Adjacent
is a three sectioned piece: a horizontal curve, vertical curve and diagonal
curve separate each of three large individual squares into primary colors
paired with their opposite or secondary colors.
The
conclusion of the exhibit is at the back of the “L” on the third floor. The
bright color wall drawings are concentrated in the center of the floor’s
layout. The colors move within bands, planes, squares, whirls, twirls,
isometric shapes with the glaring characteristics of regularity and
irregularity. Blasts of pure color, repressed subtlety: extroverted statements
that speak of everything that is possible in Sol’s language.
There seems to be a search for
solace in the content of the painted work.
Until the
deeply introspective scribble drawings appear. They are dated towards the end of his life; some
of them were installed posthumously for this retrospective exhibit. The
scribbles are so dense one cannot see any unmarked area, except on close inspection
between each scribble, which move from the outside in; within the same drawing, the least density of
scribbling creates the center. One can
see white, but never pure white. The scribble drawings glow. Shine. Become.
Concentric circles within a square. Horizon within a square, vertical tension
within a square, square within a square with rounded corners, an “X” within a
square and one that echoes the ink wash drawings where isometric shapes are
elicited: this drawing is executed like the ink washes with one layer of
scribbles occupying the entire wall and succeeding layers of scribbles
inscribed into overlapping shapes.
Wall Drawing #1247, 2007 |
The last
drawing on view, #1180, is the perfect drawing. In a circle that is
approximately twelve feet in diameter, in the perfect center of the rectangular
end wall, it retreats from the edges, but pushes simultaneously at the top and
bottom of the circle. The directions: 10,000 black straight lines combined with
10,000 not straight lines.
10,000 means “many” in the
Oriental sense of the word.
Black and white, the absorption
and reflection respectively of all color.
Here are
essential elements: Lines. They were the perpetual subject matter of Sol’s life’s
exploration and adventure. The lines coalesced into geometry which he managed
through the juggling of more lines. Lines were the beginning and the end. They
were continuously present as the circle is round.
“1. Conceptual artists are mystics rather than
rationalists. They leap to conclusions that logic cannot reach.”
Wall Drawing #1180, 2005 |
The Lines.
The Lines were his close friends.
The Lines were his allies.
The Lines travelled with him wherever
he went.
The Lines led Sol everywhere.
The Lines empowered him and
spread omnipresent creative energy throughout the universe.
Copyright
2016 Lyn Horton
Photo
Credit: Lyn Horton
First published in ARTEIDOLIA
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