Albers, de
Kooning, Hoffman, Kandinsky, Mondrian, Pollock: Though many of these artists’
works are nearly 100 years old, they are still quite often misunderstood and
even more often disliked. Still, older works as well as many contemporary
examples of abstract art are the focus of a major exhibition at the
Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Extreme
Abstraction.
In some ways,
abstraction is already extreme.
Consider, for
example, a large aluminum-piped machine hooked up to a computer programmed to
make a painting of up to 80 layers of paint. You could say, “Any monkey could
paint that.” But in this case it’s no monkey; it’s artist Roxy Paine’s PMU [Painting Manufacture Unit] — a
sculptural object consisting of aluminum, stainless steel, a computer,
electronics, relays, custom software, servo motors, valves, pumps, glass,
rubber, and, of course, white acrylic paint. It’s programmed to “come alive”
about every two hours and spurt paint across a suspended canvas. It then
“rests” while the paint becomes tacky so the next layer has something to stick
to.
So
far, two new paintings have been made during the exhibition and one is in
progress. They are all different, though they share a geologic, topographical
quality.
Elsewhere in
this very large exhibition, Tom Sachs uses gaffers tape to reproduce the
surging, intersecting red, yellow, blue lines of Mondrian’s Broadway Boogie Woogie. In our own time,
materials of the everyday, like various kinds of vinyl tape, become almost
natural in how they lend themselves to making modern art. Just ask Jim Lambie.
His site-specific installation, Zobop
Stairs, is little more than colored strips of vinyl tape outlining the
steps leading from one gallery into the next. This is art you can walk on.
It is also here
where contemporary abstraction becomes what that of the early 20th century was
not intended to be — decorative.
Decoration
is not bad; we all decorate. Just look at the patterns on an ancient vase, the
bold geometry of a Marimekko print, or Liam Gillick’s Stacked Revision Structure on the museum’s lawn. It’s a large metal
cube made of brightly colored aluminum slats. While you approach (or especially
descend) the staircase of the museum’s neoclassical faรงade, the cube sits
squarely in your line of sight. Although momentarily jarring, it is really
quite a beautiful juxtaposition.
This is not the
only instance of where the physicality of the museum is consciously affected by
artwork. There are several site-specific installations throughout the
exhibition. Not only do we get to interact with the art on the walls and
floors, but the outside space is brought in as well, forcing you to consider
the architecture like never before.
For
example, if you’re perusing the gallery walls, maybe getting a little glazed
over from so much to look at, you might miss Leo Villareal’s Light Matrix. A small label detailing
the piece is positioned on the wall next to a window in between the Sol LeWitt
and another Liam Gillick. At first glance, you might think the flickering spots
of light — sort of like radioactive fire flies — on the dark glass of the
modern Bunshaft building across the way are some sort of fleeting reflection
and that you’re the only one seeing it, much less thinking about it. But then
you get it. Part of the whole point of this piece is that the 25 super bright
white LEDs sequencing off and on don’t intrude on the architecture, nor does
the faรงade of the old, neoclassical building reflected in the modern one. It’s
beautiful and ephemeral.
Clearly, the
boundaries of what is or isn’t art have stretched, becoming increasingly more
fluid. Abstraction can make us more aware of our surroundings, as we recognize
how strangely unfamiliar the ordinary becomes. Walls, chairs, a crumpled up
piece of paper all become significant.
In his
site-specific installation, Deposit,
Todd Brandt filled over 30,000 coffee creamer cups with different colored
paints and then laid them out to cover approximately 430 square feet of gallery
floor. As you look into the individual gallery space, the scene on the elevated
floor is reminiscent of a pointillist painting.
You might wonder
why he bothered. While Georges Seurat’s tiny painted dots ultimately come
together as one recognizable image, Brandt’s cups remain as cups filled with
(now dried) paint. Of course, we can also ask why transform anything. Why paint
representationally at all if a camera can realistically, faithfully “fix” an
image?
This exhibition
is very popular with children. Children don’t usually ask whether this or that
is art but just experience things in a particular moment. Maybe this should be
a lesson to all of us, to consider the more than 200 artworks as experiences to
be encountered and grappled with, as objects that exist in the world with us.
Extreme Abstraction, through October 2 (works in the Bunshaft
building remain on view through October 16), at the Albright-Knox Art Gallery
in Buffalo, 1285 Elmwood Avenue. 716-882-8700 or www.albrightknox.org. Gallery
hours: Wednesday to Thursday 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Friday 10 a.m. to 10 p.m.,
Saturday and Sunday 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. $10, $8 for students and seniors, and
free admission every Friday from 3 to 10 p.m.
This article appears in Sep 21-27, 2005.
