Beyond Black and White @ Westbeth Gallery

In a natural world that is resplendent with color, why do so many artists produce extensive bodies of work limited to a palette of black and white? And why does this work exert such a powerful hold on our gaze?

Over the past year, there have been many exhibits focused on black and white paintings and works on paper. A brief list includes a current exhibition at The National Gallery in London, Monochrome: Painting in Black and White (both abstraction and figurative work from Rembrandt to Richter); a 2017 exhibit at The Tampa Museum of Art titled Alex Katz: Black and White; and an exhibit of exquisite black and white drawings and paintings by Dozier Bell at Danese Corey in New York. I recently posted about a 2017 exhibit at the Curator Gallery in New York, Almost Black and White.
 

Cris Gianakos (left) and Sharon Brant (right)

2018 begins with yet another exhibit devoted to painting in black and white, Beyond Black and White at Westbeth Gallery in NY.  This is a large group exhibit of black and white abstraction by 38 artists. It includes work that demonstrates a variety of preoccupations  --  paintings that are seductively austere, others that are intricately patterned, and still other paintings that focus on materiality. Curated by Li Trincere and Henry Brown, the exhibit offers a glimpse of the richness that is possible within the parameters of working in black and white. 

Michael Scott

Ken Wade

As I've written previously on this blog  (Almost Black and White, Painting in Black and White), rather than being restrictive, working with black and white can open up a world rich with possibilities for visual artists. Although the phrase 'black and white' sounds direct and clear, there is nothing simple about the decision to work in black and white.

Black isn't merely black, and white isn't just white -- either hue can be cool or warm, flat or expansive. The painted surface may be matte, reflective, chalky, silky smooth or coarsely pitted. For some of these artists, working with black and white will also mean exploring the vast arena of grays. Without the inevitable and often unwanted associations that accompany a more expansive palette, a painter is free to concentrate more fully on preoccupations with form and geometry, pattern and surface. 

This post includes a selection of the 38 paintings on exhibit. The show is up through January 27th at Westbeth Gallery, 55 Bethune Street, New York.  

Ivo Ringe

Karen Schifano

Kim Uchiyama

Mark Williams

Douglas Witmer

Lisa Beck

David Rhodes (left) and Li Trincere (right)

David Seccombe (left), Joan Witek (center), and Jean Wolff (right)

Dan Walsh

Patricia Zarate

Rene Pierre Allain (left) and Henry Brown (right)

Laura Duerwald (left) and Gelah Penn (right)

Melissa Kretschmer

ALMOST BLACK and WHITE @ The Curator Gallery

Douglas Witmer  /  Laura Duerwald  /  Diane Tate DallasKidd

Installation view with paintings by Douglas Witmer / photo courtesy of The Curator Gallery

For readers familiar with my preoccupation with painting in black and white, it will come as no surprise that I was eager to see this exhibit. As I wrote in a post several years ago, describing a painting (or anything else for that matter) as 'black and white' appears to be straightforward. However, no matter what the context, blacks and whites are complex, varied, and often filled with subtlety. As colors in the toolbox of a visual artist, they can be warm or cool, dense or atmospheric, luminous or flat. While describing a situation as black and white suggests it can be viewed with clarity, what appears to be a black and white painting is often something quite complex. From a distance, the surface of a painting might look smooth and unarticulated, the forms within it sharp and decisive, but closer examination may reveal a painterly history of loose brushwork, blobs and scratches, as well as edges that are anything but declarative.

By shaping this exhibit around paintings that are mostly black and white, it offers an opportunity to consider what is distinctive about the intention and process of each artist, since their work is already linked by palette. This is not to suggest that the reduced palette is of little consequence, but rather that the context of the exhibit opens up additional avenues for looking at their work. It is also worth examining the role that geometry plays in the work of each of these artists as an additional thread connecting the paintings on exhibit.

Installation view with paintings by Diane Tate DallasKidd (left) and Laura Duerwalkd (right) / photo courtesy of The Curator Gallery

   
DOUGLAS WITMER
The paintings of Witmer exert a quiet, but insistent hold on this viewer. They beckon patiently and provide an opportunity for extended dialogue. Each painting opens up a broad perceptual space for those willing to take the time to engage with it and while generally intimate in size, each painting offers a sense of expansive space. Witmer's materials, limited to black gesso and acrylic on canvas, belie the complexity of the work.
 

DOUGLAS WITMER  Untitled, 2017 (left) and Untitled, 2017 (right).  black gesso and acrylic on canvas. 10 x 8" each

Witmer's geometry is most often soft-edged, and his compositions spare, lending an aura of possibility, rather than certainty. The tentative geometry along the edges of each painting indicates a preference for suggestion, which seems central to Witmer's intention. While in several paintings Witmer makes a more emphatic statement with his geometry, the thin veils of paint, matte surfaces, and subtle variations across the field express ambiguity, rather than inevitability. 

DOUGLAS WITMER  Winterbrook (six panel set), 2017   black gesso and acrylic on canvas    17x14" each

In a nod to the 'almost' in the exhibit title, one canvas by Witmer most emphatically steps beyond the limits of black and white. Considerably larger than the rest of his paintings in the exhibit When In Doubt, 2015, 48x37", has a commanding presence in the gallery. It combines a more defined geometry with an intensely saturated blue field--a seeming contradiction to the painting's title. Nonetheless, Witmer steps back from that certainty in his handling of the edges of the painting. His paintings are an invitation to wonder, rather than a directive of what to think or see.

DOUGLAS WITMER  When In Doubt, 2015  black gesso and acrylic on canvas   48 x 37"  /  photo courtesy of The Curator Gallery

LAURA DUERWALD
Duerwald has work from two series on exhibit (all dated 2017)--one boldly geometric and the other more pattern-based. Although not apparent when viewed from a distance, these paintings are actually collaged constructions (incorporating acrylic, graphite, paper, and wax over either canvas or linen). 

Installation view with paintings by LAURA DUERWALD

LAURA DUERWALD  Telemark XXVIII, 2017     graphite, acrylic, paper, wax on canvas over panel   24 x 20"

 

LAURA DUERWALD  left to right: Telemark XXIV, Telemark XXIII, Telemark XXI, 2017    acrylic, graphite, paper, wax on canvas over panel      each 16 x 12"

In contrast to Witmer's generally unobtrusive presence, Duerwald more directly demands our attention, particularly with the hard-edged geometry of the Telemark series. Her idiosyncratic black forms are balanced by white areas that are peppered with marks. While the geometry in these paintings is unequivocal, the edges of each form are nuanced and somewhat irregular, and the black fields are filled with subtle atmosphere. Duerwald balances the seeming certainty of her geometry with the ambiguity of her mark-making. 

Duerwald's Template paintings appear to loosely reference printed textiles. A wedge-like mark is repeated and varies in density as it moves across the surface. Closer examination reveals that these paintings have been painstakingly constructed through a repetitive process of painting and tearing numerous scraps of paper, and then affixing them to the canvas in gently undulating rows. Unlike the defined geometry of the Telemark paintings, these paintings have a more tentative, suggestive quality to them, despite the black and white palette.

LAURA DUERWALD  Template (Too Soon To Say Goodbye), 2017    acrylic, graphite, paper, wax on linen   42 x 60"

   LAURA DUERWALD   Detail from a Template painting

DIANE TATE DALLASKIDD
DallasKidd employs a systematic approach to her investigation of form and planes. Many of the works on exhibit depict the spatial effects of folding and flattening a rectangular, two-dimensional form. The paintings create the illusion of space as each folded and flattened sheet floats within a spare field, at times anchored along the painting's edge, but often disengaged from the edges. In an array of 9 small (8 x 10") paintings titled "Coming Undone", she offers many different manifestations of that exploration. While Duerwald's paintings are collaged constructions, DallasKidd creates illusion of collage by painting hard-edged, richly textured planes. 

DIANE TATE DALLASKIDD   Page 1, 2017   acrylic on wood panel    24 x 18"   /   photo courtesy of The Curator Gallery

DIANE TATE DALLASKIDD  Coming Undone No. 5, 2017   acrylic on wood panel   8x10"   /   photo courtesy of The Curator Gallery

DIANE TATE DALLASKIDD  Coming Undone No. 6, 2017   acrylic on wood panel   8x10"   /   photo courtesy of The Curator Gallery

Almost Black and White   /  through October 28  / The Curator Gallery   /  520 West 23rd St. NYC

A year in the studio

A little over a year ago, I walked into my nearly empty studio soon after a group of paintings had been shipped out for a solo exhibit. I gave myself a week to catch my breath, settle down and then resume my work in the studio.  Although I hoped to avoid the post-exhibit slump, I felt listless and directionless. I started to work on several new paintings that were directly connected to the previous body of work, but with little enthusiasm. As this continued for several weeks, I became increasingly despondent. Was I struggling because I had just hit a tough spot, or was I struggling because it was time to shift directions?  In preparation for the solo exhibit, I had narrowed my focus—not wanting to become distracted. Perhaps this was the moment to re-engage with ideas that had cropped up earlier but had been put aside.

The most exhilarating, but at times terrifying pursuit in the studio can be to set off in new directions-- exhilarating, because everything seems possible; terrifying, because nothing is certain.  To place some limits on the uncertainty I set up a few rules. First, since my paintings develop slowly over many months, I decided to do small works on paper that could be executed fairly rapidly.  Next, since one element of my recent work had emphasized areas of rhythmic busyness, I would push myself to dramatically pare down the compositions.  Finally, not only would I limit compositional complexity, I would also place restrictions on my palette.  Of course, through all of this I recognized that while these forays might yield dramatic changes in my work, they might also just lead to a subtle realignment of priorities.

Over the next twelve months I would follow my rules, completely abandon them, and then return to them once again. I found myself energized, utterly deflated, and occasionally thrilled at what I saw emerging in the studio. I would work with great enthusiasm and then hit a wall. I saw connections to topics I addressed in previous posts on this blog (Painting in Black and White; A personal take on Rockburne). But as the year progressed, I felt as if I had accomplished very little.

In preparation for a studio visit towards the end of 2013, I looked at all that I had done--looking for the common threads, looking to see which (if any) of the directions I had pursued resonated with me.  Several observations emerged from this review: It was a relief to discover that I hadn’t wasted my year; I quickly identified avenues that held little interest for me; I had a better understanding of several directions that did excite me; but I still had no idea where I was heading.

What follows then, is a glimpse of my year in the studio, roughly in the sequence that I worked on each project (some of which were pursued simultaneously). Although I’ve provided just a few images, each project includes between 10 and 25 finished pieces. 

February 2013 /       Untitled     oil on paper, 9.75 x 10.5 inches
My first series shows a close connection to the work from the exhibit, although I did follow my rule of working with a restricted palette. Determined to break away from rigid rectilinear forms, I abandoned this group after a few weeks.

March 2013  /   Untitled     gouache and oil pastel      6 x 6 inches
This project was prompted both by my interest in working in black and white as well as a desire to add linear gestures to my images. 

April – July 2013    /       Criss Cross    oil on paper, 9.75 x 10.5 inches 

Although the process would be slower, I resumed my work with oil paint on paper, with an emphasis on developing compositions that were spare, but dynamic. As the series expanded, the palette gradually shifted into colors I considered more decorative, adding an unwanted associative element. 

June -July 2013  /        This That     oil on paper    10 x 6.25 inches

I found the process of developing This That meditative and quite satisfying. Once again, I was searching for a dynamic tension while restricting the number of elements in the composition. I also wanted to dip my toes into working with curvilinear forms, something I generally avoid.

July 2013  /    charcoal on paper   8.25 x 9 inches

With this group of drawings, I returned to making visible marks but worked the image by lifting off charcoal with a kneaded eraser, rather than by adding lines on top of the field (as I had done with the gouache and oil pastel).  The drawings were executed quickly, meeting one of my rules.

August – September 2013   /   Tangle    charcoal on paper   8.25 x 9 inches

Clearly, this series marked a major departure for me. It emerged in response to my boredom working with more or less parallel lines, and immediately engaged my interest. After I built up the field of charcoal and began to draw (with a kneaded eraser), the images emerged fairly rapidly, in a single, relatively short work session. Although I've taken a hiatus from this series, it has a very powerful hold on me--I love the intense energy these drawings embody. I expect there will be another iteration of Tangle--perhaps in a few months, perhaps in a few years. 

 May 2013 – January 2014   /    Untitled     oil on wood panel    15” x 14.5 inches 

Although one of my self-imposed rules had been to restrict myself to work that could be produced quickly, I repeatedly returned to this series of small wood panels throughout much of the year. In earlier paintings on panel, I used rough sandpaper on small patches of the paintings to create textures and reveal underlayers. Now I wanted to see what happened when those areas became a more prominent element in my compositions and in my process.  As with my earlier paintings, the process entails multiple sessions in the studio until the composition of each painting begins to emerge. Thin paint layers are repeatedly added and partially sanded off.  Yes, these are slow paintings. But I stuck to my other rules of keeping the composition spare and the restricting the palette.

It is clear to me that I'm not yet ready to settle down. Indeed, there are already a few new explorations underway. But it has been a satisfying year in the studio.  

Painting in Black and White

BLACK and WHITE. It sounds so very direct and clear. 

To frame an issue in black and white is to suggest that there is no middle ground and that the issue should only be considered from either of two extremes. It suggests that black and white are opposites--that one negates the other. It is a simplistic approach and demands that we see only absolutes. Black or white. Pick one.

But painting in black and white is not the same as thinking in black and white. By painting in black and white, the artist has pared down one part of image-making -- color choice, but rather than certainty we are offered a range of possibilities. Is the blackness something concrete or is it atmospheric? Does whiteness always connote a void?  Can blackness and whiteness possess many of the same qualities?  And of course, labeling colors simply as 'black' or 'white' is simplistic, as there are many variations of blackness and whiteness.  Although the palette is limited to black and white, the experience of seeing is complex.

AL HELD   The "I", 1965, 
acrylic on canvas, 108 x 76"

This monumental painting by Al Held is currently on view at Cheim & Reid. Although not apparent when viewing it on a computer screen, the entire surface is covered with brush marks, gouges and globs of paint. The physicality and sheer size of the painting give it great presence. The white tabs appear to forcefully push out against the vertical edges. Or perhaps, the tabs are folded around and in front of the blackness, creating the illusion that the back of the painting is a field of brilliant whiteness. The painting offers us spatial ambiguity, not certainty.

 

RICHARD SERRA   Black Drawings at the Metropolitan Museum, 2011

RICHARD SERRA  Zadakians, 1974  Paintstick on linen (at the Metropolitan Museum)

In a 2011 installation of monumental drawings (melted oil paint sticks pressed onto paper and linen) at the Metropolitan Museum, Richard Serra brought the extraordinary density of blackness to a new level.  The white walls frequently served as a counterpoint to the all enveloping blackness, but these drawings were about the blackness itself--the kind of blackness that can consume you if you lean in too closely.

While these paintings are pared down in composition and color, they are not in any way simplistic and offer us no absolutes. In geometric abstraction, the interplay of figure and ground is often present no matter what the size of the painting. What we read as whiteness or blackness may be warm, cool, flat or luminous. For me, the absence of other colors increases the mystery and power of these images.

KAZIMIR MALEVICH  Black and White, Suprematist composition, 1915 
 oil on canvas   80 x 80cm

MYRON STOUT  Untitled, 1953
 charcoal and pastel on paper      25 x 19"
(I am not certain if the specifications are correct for this piece.)

PIET MONDRIAN     Composition in Black and White, with Double Lines, 1934    

oil on canvas

Linear and gestural work bring out another element of the expressive power of black and white abstraction, whether the mark making is monumental and vigorous or more pictorial. The paintings may be stark and energetic or lyrical, but the absence of other colors allows us to focus more acutely on the forms.

FRANZ KLINE    Mahoning, 1956     oil and paper collage on canvas    80 x 100"

WILLEM DE KOONING     Painting, 1948    enamel and oil on canvas    42.5 x 56"

It takes patience to take in all the possibilities that are offered in these paintings. Unlike black and white thinking, the longer you look, the more you see. 

The images in this post first appeared on gallery and museum websites.