That day I was in SoHo and found a bright red poster printed with Oriental characters, several rolls of ripped paper, and about 200 pieces of white mat-board.
The Oriental poster I removed from the wall (it ripped in a few places) and put it on my wall across from the red and white bristol board drawing. The power of the intense red and black images and the direct relationship it had with these drawings made it seem like another logical step in a process.
The ripped paper is not (or at this time does not appear to be) directly related to the red-white-black drawings. However, it was significant. I will explain later.
The thing that was the most amazing was that the 200 pieces of mat-board were 7¼ʺ × 9¼ʺ exactly. Coincidence?
I proceeded to draw black (ink) forms on the pieces similar to the previous red-on-white and red-on-black drawings.
At this point I had approximately 40 of these black-on-white drawings.
I stopped, temporarily, because of questioning their relevance, my motives, etc.
But now as I write this down it all appears to make sense. The implications are still unclear, but I have had several ideas about these drawings and about cycles, processes and evolving forms (in some way related to Dorothea Rockburne’s “drawings that make themselves,” in a different context, however):
The importance of “chance” and being open to outside forces and directives.
The artist as a tool, a vehicle, a victim.
The displacement of forms and the ability to change, rearrange, group, isolate and control form for an infinite number of effects—never “final,” never “finished.”
The imposition of structure on form.
Structure in human terms—grid or linear structure; this idea led to ideas concerning music, dance, etc.
All things are measured by their adherence to or deviance from a given structure.
Difference is measured by sameness.
We “see” in terms of associate and relative structures.
The importance of these drawings at this stage is, for me, their dependence on a logical evolving process. Each one is derivative of the previous one. Each idea leads to another. The cycle is complete, for me, when I have exhausted the possibilities to the point where I am no longer interested in them, and/or have proceeded to something else.
After the process, the resulting physical objects/images may be interchanged to create different variations and effects for different reasons, however unrelated.
Another issue:
One of the most successful recent drawings was one that was done because while I was removing the cut-outs from the plastic, I ripped one of my favorite shapes. I wanted to save it so I traced it onto a piece of graph paper and painted the image with the red ink. It has remained one of my favorite forms. My question is, “How important is the fact that it was cut as opposed to painted?” The completeness, accurateness, finalness of a cut may allow me to be more direct, more spontaneous and therefore more interesting. All of these drawings are derivative of the floor sculpture that was “cut.” Perhaps the importance of the physical act of cutting (sawing) has been overlooked in my obsession with the resulting forms as forms.
Another issue:
My recent interest in the “grouping” of photo images. There are in my house, currently, three places where there are groupings of three rectangular images (all alike), and one grouping of two photos (alike in size and imagery, but not composition).
Perhaps it has something to do with the obvious reality that they are “reproducible” photo images and are all alike.
Possibly because I never create objects/images that are identical in my own work, my reaction or my interest in a photo image is that it is an exact reproduction and is based on duplication, repetition, etc. Groups of three, by preference.
The grouping is also related to my use of paper and the relationships between paper as a rectangular form.
Being aware of the form of the paper, as well as the images or forms on the paper.
This brings me back to the ripped paper that I found in SoHo.
This paper was significant to me because it made me aware of the importance of the continuing interest I have had in the physical form of paper. It is one of the factors that has been a major force in my art since 1977. I have often considered it, but never wrote about it. One of the first considerations was a reaction against the stretched canvas and framed or matted picture, the growing attitude of “everything happens for a reason, everything will happen inevitably anyway, therefore, there are not really any mistakes and no reason to exert unnecessary amounts of control.” This attitude has prevailed to a certain extent, but has taken on different levels of importance and meaning. While in Pittsburgh, I began to be interested in “paper as paper” and using the physical form of paper as a positive factor instead of a restraint. I was becoming more interested in using many different materials and unrelated objects to create a unified piece. I created a “print sculpture,” which consisted of a lithograph that was then rolled over with ink and hung with string from the ceiling. Two other pieces of paper were added and “asphaltum” (used in the litho process: ink thinned with lacquer thinner) was squirted on the one so that it dripped onto the other two. The piece was installed in the basement in the all-white room at the Arts & Crafts Center of Pittsburgh. The form of the paper as it was restrained by weight and string was the driving force. This was the piece that led to the first paper environment installed in that room. I was also working with “found” paper that would inevitably be wrinkled or torn. Or deliberately tearing paper (without control or preconceived intentions) and using the resulting pieces sculpturally. Also using the effect that ink or paint had on paper when it dried (unevenness and texture caused contraction).
These interests continued to be as important as the images I was painting on the paper. So, continually my interests have been twofold—the forms on the paper and the form of the paper. They do not operate separately except in the case of unpainted paper used solely for the physical form of the paper. The piece on my wall now is seven pieces of paper that are, as I found them, ripped into one shape. It is a repeated form, but each piece has personal variations (small rips or wrinkles) and each hangs slightly differently. I have begun to work with clear plastic combined with paper and logic of layers. The reason that these recent pieces are important to me is that I have become more aware of these properties of paper, and have chosen to continue to use paper as a sculptural, physical consideration. It is becoming more apparent to me, through writing, that there is a strong underlying unity or framework within my work. This unity and/or clearness of intention/direction has been one of the main issues in my mind since I began to seriously question what I am doing and why.
The Mark Rothko retrospective has been a major influence on my current thought.
Also, the understanding that everything is related to something previous. When looking back at my use of paper as form and the evolution of this idea through many different aspects, the relationships are obvious.
Quoting from the
Village Voice
review of the “Grid Show” at the Pace Gallery in January 1979:
“Everything done well within a given medium will expand upon its possibilities, and also refer back to previous uses of it, however inadvertently.”
JANUARY 22, 1979
Back to school and tying up loose ends. I had a drawing class today. I received much helpful advice and critique about the recent isolated-form drawings.
Things to be considered:
The importance of the individual forms. Do they transcend symbols and are they expressing my most creative powers?
There were some that did, however, most of them did not. Therefore, study the forms that interest me most, find out why, pursue that.
I then questioned whether they might not be interesting to different people: different people = different choices. However, I found that after asking several people to leaf through them, they almost unanimously chose the same ones as the “most interesting.” They were also the ones I had chosen as my favorites, and the ones my drawing teacher had pointed out as her favorites. That poses a lot of new questions, and a lot of new answers.
Also, my teacher, Barbara Schwartz, suggested that mono-prints could be helpful, and more work on tar paper.
Consider all of the space on the page.
Try my favorite shapes in a number of different scales, placements, mediums, etc.
Create images that reflect my own spirit more clearly, more precisely.
Trust my own taste, don’t be so self-conscious.
It is important to understand the space relationships and compositional factors that I am investigating—know them—so that I can build upon them and go further.
In my Video Art workshop we started the class by hearing Barbara Buckner read a letter to Theo from Vincent Van Gogh. It was about the period in a painter’s life (the beginning) when he is questioning everything he is doing and being disillusioned by his desire to master all that he undertakes. It came at an important time and was very helpful for me. I got the book out of the library, as well as Paul Klee’s diaries.
She also discussed the importance of the existence of the spiritual involvement of the artist in his work. Art has become as religion in the past few decades. Readings from Kandinsky, Van Gogh, Jung, Léger, etc.
Also, the importance of dreams. Explore the implications, problem-solving in the subconscious.
The phenomena of art as a secular act since the 13th or 14th century, before that a group endeavor.
It’s good to be back in school, in conversation with other artists, being criticized, and in a working atmosphere.
I have become self-confident while on this vacation, not aware that I am still a student.
It is important to acknowledge that—that I should be open to everything, and that I am merely gathering information.
Do not place too much emphasis on my current experimentation and investigations. They are only records of my search.
Nature is glamorous to the point of confusion, let the artist be truly taciturn.
Moreover, in order to be successful, it is necessary never to work toward a conception of the picture completely thought out in advance. Instead, one must give oneself completely to the developing portion of the area to be painted. The total impression is then rooted in the principle of economy: to derive the effect of the whole from a few steps.
—Paul Klee, from his diary
FEBRUARY 11, 1979
My interest in video is to explore the juxtaposition of words and images or sounds and images to formulate results that require the participation and individual interpretation of the viewer.
My interest in painting is to explore the infinite variations of form and space relationships to produce objects and images that require the participation and individual interpretation of the viewer.
My interest in life is to explore as many of its infinite variables as I am physically able to, consciously as well as unconsciously.
MARCH 26, 1979
Proposal for installation at SVA Gallery, TriBeCa
My interest in this space is to continue the objectives that have been inherent in my past installations and hopefully to take them one step further. The significant difference between this space and the others I have worked in is that it already contains interesting structural qualities. My interest is, as before, to redefine the structural qualities of the space, therefore altering the viewer’s perception of it.
The only mandatory supplies are white paint and painting materials so that I can paint the entire room white (including the floor). Also, the door would be removed from the hinges during the installation.
My procedure from that point would be to work within the given limitations (time, money, etc.).
Since the number of colors and forms is infinite, their combinations are also infinite, and simultaneously, their effort. This material is inexhaustible.
—Wassily Kandinsky,
Concerning the Spiritual in Art
SEPTEMBER 1, 1979: KUTZTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA
The fog begins to break.
I am in Kutztown, convalescing. Hepatitis a week before school resumed. So far I have missed one week of school; there may be a chance of going back to New York in time to start this semester, but it is unlikely.
What am I missing?
The two main classes that are timely and seemed important information sources that fit into place now are Semiotics with Bill Beckley and a Visual Science course that deals with universal coordinates/patterns and underlying connections between all forms of life.
I am also missing that wonderful New York City air. That deadening pace that won’t quit. Derelicts and other human wastelands. The impending New York FEAR that is always a factor in whatever you are doing. Dirty air, dirty streets, dirty looks. I’m not missing all that much.
Kutztown has its good points. Kermit and his studio. Brian living with Kermit. Nam June Paik—visiting artist in September. Mimeograph machine. Excessive amounts of love and sanity. Precise order. Fresh air. A different background noise . . . still a hum but a softer, more natural buzz. Time to contemplate, time to reflect and dream. Time to read at a time when it may be more important to read than to do.
Somehow it works out that I read and experience things in big chunks. And the chunks are always closely knitted together. Cross-references and reaffirmation. Some of the parts of the chunk come to me by “chance” and others are sought after. Some were with me a long time but become new, while some appear to have been with me always at their first encounter. Almost always this chunk of information/awareness comes to me without much effort on my part. It is stumbling across a gold box on a deserted road while you may or may not have been looking where you were walking.