Interiors

Richard Artschwager’s work explores perception and recognition through abstracting, altering and repeating elements. In “Interior,” a single interior is viewed through two juxtaposed images. A viewer’s natural assumption would be that the two images combine to create one scene, either through two different perspectives of the same space (perhaps even stereoscopic) or one image cut into two sections. However, Artschwager has done neither. Each section is part of a single larger image, but each section includes part of the other section, thus repeating certain elements (side table, corner of the room, etc.). The visual texture that Artschwager uses (and for which he is known) provides a sense of nostalgia (like a grainy black and white film). The scenario depicted furthers this sense of nostalgia by being a Victorian-era room. However, by creating the work as a three-color silkscreen, the artist keeps the viewer aware that the piece was not made in that Victorian era. Artschwager’s artistic gestures, often considered enigmatic, provide a viewer with the opportunity the calm pleasure of the familiar, the simple awareness of surface as image, and the dynamic reality of life requiring dynamic and open-ended appreciation.

Richard Artschwager’s work explores perception and recognition through abstracting, altering and repeating elements. In “Interior,” a single interior is viewed through two juxtaposed images. A viewer’s natural assumption would be that the two images combine to create one scene, either through two different perspectives of the same space (perhaps even stereoscopic) or one image cut into two sections. However, Artschwager has done neither. Each section is part of a single larger image, but each section includes part of the other section, thus repeating certain elements (side table, corner of the room, etc.). The visual texture that Artschwager uses (and for which he is known) provides a sense of nostalgia (like a grainy black and white film). The scenario depicted furthers this sense of nostalgia by being a Victorian-era room. However, by creating the work as a three-color silkscreen, the artist keeps the viewer aware that the piece was not made in that Victorian era. Artschwager’s artistic gestures, often considered enigmatic, provide a viewer with the opportunity the calm pleasure of the familiar, the simple awareness of surface as image, and the dynamic reality of life requiring dynamic and open-ended appreciation.

Richard Artschwager’s work explores perception and recognition through abstracting, altering and repeating elements. In “Interior,” a single interior is viewed through two juxtaposed images. A viewer’s natural assumption would be that the two images combine to create one scene, either through two different perspectives of the same space (perhaps even stereoscopic) or one image cut into two sections. However, Artschwager has done neither. Each section is part of a single larger image, but each section includes part of the other section, thus repeating certain elements (side table, corner of the room, etc.). The visual texture that Artschwager uses (and for which he is known) provides a sense of nostalgia (like a grainy black and white film). The scenario depicted furthers this sense of nostalgia by being a Victorian-era room. However, by creating the work as a three-color silkscreen, the artist keeps the viewer aware that the piece was not made in that Victorian era. Artschwager’s artistic gestures, often considered enigmatic, provide a viewer with the opportunity the calm pleasure of the familiar, the simple awareness of surface as image, and the dynamic reality of life requiring dynamic and open-ended appreciation.

Richard Artschwager’s work explores perception and recognition through abstracting, altering and repeating elements. In “Interior,” a single interior is viewed through two juxtaposed images. A viewer’s natural assumption would be that the two images combine to create one scene, either through two different perspectives of the same space (perhaps even stereoscopic) or one image cut into two sections. However, Artschwager has done neither. Each section is part of a single larger image, but each section includes part of the other section, thus repeating certain elements (side table, corner of the room, etc.). The visual texture that Artschwager uses (and for which he is known) provides a sense of nostalgia (like a grainy black and white film). The scenario depicted furthers this sense of nostalgia by being a Victorian-era room. However, by creating the work as a three-color silkscreen, the artist keeps the viewer aware that the piece was not made in that Victorian era. Artschwager’s artistic gestures, often considered enigmatic, provide a viewer with the opportunity the calm pleasure of the familiar, the simple awareness of surface as image, and the dynamic reality of life requiring dynamic and open-ended appreciation.

Richard Artschwager’s work explores perception and recognition through abstracting, altering and repeating elements. In “Interior,” a single interior is viewed through two juxtaposed images. A viewer’s natural assumption would be that the two images combine to create one scene, either through two different perspectives of the same space (perhaps even stereoscopic) or one image cut into two sections. However, Artschwager has done neither. Each section is part of a single larger image, but each section includes part of the other section, thus repeating certain elements (side table, corner of the room, etc.). The visual texture that Artschwager uses (and for which he is known) provides a sense of nostalgia (like a grainy black and white film). The scenario depicted furthers this sense of nostalgia by being a Victorian-era room. However, by creating the work as a three-color silkscreen, the artist keeps the viewer aware that the piece was not made in that Victorian era. Artschwager’s artistic gestures, often considered enigmatic, provide a viewer with the opportunity the calm pleasure of the familiar, the simple awareness of surface as image, and the dynamic reality of life requiring dynamic and open-ended appreciation.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

John Baldessari’s “Black Dice” is based on a promotional shot taken from a Midcentury film of the same name. The nine equal sections of Baldessari’s work are independent abstract compositions that, when assembled in a grid, become more identifiable and ultimately depict that single moment in the movie. Like a film broken down into stills, Baldessari has broken the single still down into sections. Baldessari believed that the source photo was a variable component of the installation, leaving the decision as to whether to include it up to the viewer, furthering the ongoing tension between parts and whole. Throughout his work, Baldessari broke imagery down into parts, expanded those sections’ potentials and then reassembled them to create both identifiable and also entirely new compositions where what was central could be omitted and elements on the periphery could take on heightened roles.

“Eight Vessels” is a new photogravure by William Kentridge. The work consists of four sheets of paper, each with etching, arranged and overlapped to form a single image that is then hand-painted and pinned together to create the work. “Eight Vessels” stems from Kentridge’s recent investigations of the still life form that came as a result of the COVID-induced lockdown in South Africa starting in March, 2020. Kentridge, like many, was in the unusual situation of being isolated in his studio. This isolation led to a sustained investigation into the significance of meaning, making, and working process in a studio. Thus began what became “Studio Life.”

Inspired by the everyday objects around him and by the painter, Giorgio Morandi, Kentridge created enlarged objects in his home studio and began arranging them on a table as subjects to be drawn. His still life included water jugs, vases, an ink tin and a bottle of whiskey. This still life originally existed as foam core & paper cut-outs in an investigative performance “(Still Life Sculpture)” for “The Long Minute” and then as a charcoal drawing, “Drawing for Studio Life (Still Life with Black Jug I ),” which was then photographed and translated into a new series of stop-animation films included in “Studio Life: A Natural History of the Studio” and lastly, as the “Eight Vessels” photogravure print.

“Eight Vessels” is a new photogravure by William Kentridge. The work consists of four sheets of paper, each with etching, arranged and overlapped to form a single image that is then hand-painted and pinned together to create the work. “Eight Vessels” stems from Kentridge’s recent investigations of the still life form that came as a result of the COVID-induced lockdown in South Africa starting in March, 2020. Kentridge, like many, was in the unusual situation of being isolated in his studio. This isolation led to a sustained investigation into the significance of meaning, making, and working process in a studio. Thus began what became “Studio Life.”

Inspired by the everyday objects around him and by the painter, Giorgio Morandi, Kentridge created enlarged objects in his home studio and began arranging them on a table as subjects to be drawn. His still life included water jugs, vases, an ink tin and a bottle of whiskey. This still life originally existed as foam core & paper cut-outs in an investigative performance “(Still Life Sculpture)” for “The Long Minute” and then as a charcoal drawing, “Drawing for Studio Life (Still Life with Black Jug I ),” which was then photographed and translated into a new series of stop-animation films included in “Studio Life: A Natural History of the Studio” and lastly, as the “Eight Vessels” photogravure print.

“Eight Vessels” is a new photogravure by William Kentridge. The work consists of four sheets of paper, each with etching, arranged and overlapped to form a single image that is then hand-painted and pinned together to create the work. “Eight Vessels” stems from Kentridge’s recent investigations of the still life form that came as a result of the COVID-induced lockdown in South Africa starting in March, 2020. Kentridge, like many, was in the unusual situation of being isolated in his studio. This isolation led to a sustained investigation into the significance of meaning, making, and working process in a studio. Thus began what became “Studio Life.”

Inspired by the everyday objects around him and by the painter, Giorgio Morandi, Kentridge created enlarged objects in his home studio and began arranging them on a table as subjects to be drawn. His still life included water jugs, vases, an ink tin and a bottle of whiskey. This still life originally existed as foam core & paper cut-outs in an investigative performance “(Still Life Sculpture)” for “The Long Minute” and then as a charcoal drawing, “Drawing for Studio Life (Still Life with Black Jug I ),” which was then photographed and translated into a new series of stop-animation films included in “Studio Life: A Natural History of the Studio” and lastly, as the “Eight Vessels” photogravure print.

“Eight Vessels” is a new photogravure by William Kentridge. The work consists of four sheets of paper, each with etching, arranged and overlapped to form a single image that is then hand-painted and pinned together to create the work. “Eight Vessels” stems from Kentridge’s recent investigations of the still life form that came as a result of the COVID-induced lockdown in South Africa starting in March, 2020. Kentridge, like many, was in the unusual situation of being isolated in his studio. This isolation led to a sustained investigation into the significance of meaning, making, and working process in a studio. Thus began what became “Studio Life.”

Inspired by the everyday objects around him and by the painter, Giorgio Morandi, Kentridge created enlarged objects in his home studio and began arranging them on a table as subjects to be drawn. His still life included water jugs, vases, an ink tin and a bottle of whiskey. This still life originally existed as foam core & paper cut-outs in an investigative performance “(Still Life Sculpture)” for “The Long Minute” and then as a charcoal drawing, “Drawing for Studio Life (Still Life with Black Jug I ),” which was then photographed and translated into a new series of stop-animation films included in “Studio Life: A Natural History of the Studio” and lastly, as the “Eight Vessels” photogravure print.

“I try to really be attentive to where my work wants to go and trust that it will take me some place that’s informative.”

Kiki Smith likes the bareness of colonial New England aesthetics and has explored the forms of chairs for many years. The women that she depicts are of all different ages and sometimes multiple ages. Oftentimes, Smith renders flowers at various stages of their life cycles, as well. Her subjects are grounded in daily living or historic narratives and yet they can become fantastical. In “Open Window, Chair with Flowers,” the bouquet placed on an otherwise unused chair is juxtaposed with an open window. The window is formed, piecemeal, so as to create a series of interlocking rectangles that make it hard to recognize which pane of glass is in front of which other pane. The symbolism of the different elements is open-ended, the ‘feel’ of the scenario is particular and yet it is not just a scene, an image on paper, but an object to behold: The flowers are collaged on the chair; the paper on which the chair is situated, is attached to the paper on which the window is assembled. The objects (pieces of Nepalese paper) on which there are depictions of other objects (chair, flowers, window) are as significant as the images. Physical reality, depiction, and imagination are in balance.

“I really like the chair as a stand-in for the lover but sometimes it stands in for the wake, you know you have these chairs and people sit in these rooms with chairs and the coffin. A chair represents a mantle that you sit in, a seat of power traditionally in culture, when people got off the floor, the throne. So there’s all these different connotations with the chair. I realized I’ve been making chairs in my work for a while. When I was young I would say, “all sculptures are just men in chairs” and now of course I’m completely fascinated with them, so they obviously held some fascination or power with me as a young artist.”

“I try to really be attentive to where my work wants to go and trust that it will take me some place that’s informative.”

Kiki Smith likes the bareness of colonial New England aesthetics and has explored the forms of chairs for many years. The women that she depicts are of all different ages and sometimes multiple ages. Oftentimes, Smith renders flowers at various stages of their life cycles, as well. Her subjects are grounded in daily living or historic narratives and yet they can become fantastical. In “Open Window, Chair with Flowers,” the bouquet placed on an otherwise unused chair is juxtaposed with an open window. The window is formed, piecemeal, so as to create a series of interlocking rectangles that make it hard to recognize which pane of glass is in front of which other pane. The symbolism of the different elements is open-ended, the ‘feel’ of the scenario is particular and yet it is not just a scene, an image on paper, but an object to behold: The flowers are collaged on the chair; the paper on which the chair is situated, is attached to the paper on which the window is assembled. The objects (pieces of Nepalese paper) on which there are depictions of other objects (chair, flowers, window) are as significant as the images. Physical reality, depiction, and imagination are in balance.

“I really like the chair as a stand-in for the lover but sometimes it stands in for the wake, you know you have these chairs and people sit in these rooms with chairs and the coffin. A chair represents a mantle that you sit in, a seat of power traditionally in culture, when people got off the floor, the throne. So there’s all these different connotations with the chair. I realized I’ve been making chairs in my work for a while. When I was young I would say, “all sculptures are just men in chairs” and now of course I’m completely fascinated with them, so they obviously held some fascination or power with me as a young artist.”

“I try to really be attentive to where my work wants to go and trust that it will take me some place that’s informative.”

Kiki Smith likes the bareness of colonial New England aesthetics and has explored the forms of chairs for many years. The women that she depicts are of all different ages and sometimes multiple ages. Oftentimes, Smith renders flowers at various stages of their life cycles, as well. Her subjects are grounded in daily living or historic narratives and yet they can become fantastical. In “Open Window, Chair with Flowers,” the bouquet placed on an otherwise unused chair is juxtaposed with an open window. The window is formed, piecemeal, so as to create a series of interlocking rectangles that make it hard to recognize which pane of glass is in front of which other pane. The symbolism of the different elements is open-ended, the ‘feel’ of the scenario is particular and yet it is not just a scene, an image on paper, but an object to behold: The flowers are collaged on the chair; the paper on which the chair is situated, is attached to the paper on which the window is assembled. The objects (pieces of Nepalese paper) on which there are depictions of other objects (chair, flowers, window) are as significant as the images. Physical reality, depiction, and imagination are in balance.

“I really like the chair as a stand-in for the lover but sometimes it stands in for the wake, you know you have these chairs and people sit in these rooms with chairs and the coffin. A chair represents a mantle that you sit in, a seat of power traditionally in culture, when people got off the floor, the throne. So there’s all these different connotations with the chair. I realized I’ve been making chairs in my work for a while. When I was young I would say, “all sculptures are just men in chairs” and now of course I’m completely fascinated with them, so they obviously held some fascination or power with me as a young artist.”

“I try to really be attentive to where my work wants to go and trust that it will take me some place that’s informative.”

Kiki Smith likes the bareness of colonial New England aesthetics and has explored the forms of chairs for many years. The women that she depicts are of all different ages and sometimes multiple ages. Oftentimes, Smith renders flowers at various stages of their life cycles, as well. Her subjects are grounded in daily living or historic narratives and yet they can become fantastical. In “Open Window, Chair with Flowers,” the bouquet placed on an otherwise unused chair is juxtaposed with an open window. The window is formed, piecemeal, so as to create a series of interlocking rectangles that make it hard to recognize which pane of glass is in front of which other pane. The symbolism of the different elements is open-ended, the ‘feel’ of the scenario is particular and yet it is not just a scene, an image on paper, but an object to behold: The flowers are collaged on the chair; the paper on which the chair is situated, is attached to the paper on which the window is assembled. The objects (pieces of Nepalese paper) on which there are depictions of other objects (chair, flowers, window) are as significant as the images. Physical reality, depiction, and imagination are in balance.

“I really like the chair as a stand-in for the lover but sometimes it stands in for the wake, you know you have these chairs and people sit in these rooms with chairs and the coffin. A chair represents a mantle that you sit in, a seat of power traditionally in culture, when people got off the floor, the throne. So there’s all these different connotations with the chair. I realized I’ve been making chairs in my work for a while. When I was young I would say, “all sculptures are just men in chairs” and now of course I’m completely fascinated with them, so they obviously held some fascination or power with me as a young artist.”

Liliana Porter found two depictions of females. One is a small figurine and the other is the image on the cover of a book. What happens when they are placed together? Do they talk? If so, what do they say? How do they deal with their differences (scale, medium, age, etc.)? Where did they each come from? Can they help each other? These are unanswerable questions and, on one hand, they are absurd. On the other, they provide an opportunity to think freely and deeply about human interactions and material culture. The artist has adhered the two depictions together and then casually painted the assemblage so as to bring them into the same space. Porter suggests that the absurdity can actually be the key to let one think deeply and she has been doing just that for the sixty years of her long and storied arc as an artist.

Liliana Porter found two depictions of females. One is a small figurine and the other is the image on the cover of a book. What happens when they are placed together? Do they talk? If so, what do they say? How do they deal with their differences (scale, medium, age, etc.)? Where did they each come from? Can they help each other? These are unanswerable questions and, on one hand, they are absurd. On the other, they provide an opportunity to think freely and deeply about human interactions and material culture. The artist has adhered the two depictions together and then casually painted the assemblage so as to bring them into the same space. Porter suggests that the absurdity can actually be the key to let one think deeply and she has been doing just that for the sixty years of her long and storied arc as an artist.