Pendleton: long stretches of emptiness filled with blue and gold. The linear quality of no mountains (and no skyscrapers) on the horizon is just so overwhelming. I saw many variations across it, light like I rarely see - because there is no place to put it, no sky here (or New York) to hold the light.
But there, nothing stands in its way. The sky is like a blanket wrapped around you, like the ones they make in that town, only beyond measure. There can be no coincidence about the blanket and pattern making going on there – it comes from above.
My squares and rectangles are the boxes of color known as the sky.
Color for me is an unavoidable fact of life, but some are not convinced. This hit home in a recent discussion at Art and Perception. Steve Durbin wanted to know if there was such a thing as Chromophobia. I felt it more than knew it, in how the term ‘colorist’ was thrown my way in New York when I first arrived.... and it didn’t sound very good.
But I really didn’t think the work was ‘about’ color per se. Sure, I used chartreuse with orange and purple, but I just thought of it as paint! Dumb, huh?
The thread eventually got into ‘whiteness,’ and as I noted, I have a friend who is not automatically giving over to the supposedly assured heaviness of it. As an example, she is way over Robert Ryman. She thinks he’s got a great scam going and she is, BTW, a fan of minimalism. I was almost kind of shocked, because the man is like a god.
Some days the world in my studio is red. Some days it is blue. But a day is a hell of a lot easier on me than when I made Beam and all those 48 inch squares. My world was yellow for two months with Beam (see above). That was a not easy, especially as it was winter. I tried to make the sun in a basement.