I wrote this while still living in Des Moines, spending time at the art museum taking a break from preparations to move. For some reason, I've thought about it again tonight. Maybe because it seems that life sometimes completely catches you off guard some days and grants you inspiration and encouragement....
What About Bob???
I watched as one by one people glanced, then walked past.
That in it self drew me in.
White walls, lights glowing yellowish, but clear, canvas hung, apparently “just a white” painting was on the wall. Same as the walls. White. White on white. With only a hint of shadow in places that made you realize a picture was hung.
Most saw boring.
Or nothing at all.
Maybe carrying an air of “that’s dumb”, and a desire to walk away to find something more dynamic and colorful.
I remembered the old joke, showing someone a blank piece of paper and asking, “What’s this?” Them saying, “I don’t know. An empty piece of paper?” “NO!!! It’s a cow in a snowstorm!!!!”
I remember this joke from my childhood and I'm thinking it’s still kind of funny. And who is to say it isn’t real? Isn't true?
That is what I first saw on the wall.
A cow in a snowstorm.
White on white on white on white.
But since everyone else was moving away from, moving past, moving farther, ignoring… I was drawn in. Curious.
Got closer.
Then saw.
Hundreds of intentional brush strokes. Movement. Lots of movement in the stillness. Intentional design and flow. A mastery of subtleties. Tricking the untrained eye or the eyes of someone not willing or able to come closer, dig deeper, discover and uncover. Changes so soft and so naturally embedded, one would never notice from a further distance. They couldn't unless they stepped away from what was comfortable. Move into it. Directly inside the painting. Almost literally. Nose up against canvas. Little hints of disguised color… but not the artists color. The observers. Color collected from the play of light on form. The reflection of rays off of structure. A powerfully beautiful dance completely missed by most. Unseen by all the others who went before me.
Genius.
I’ve studied the artist before. But I didn’t really understand. I criticized his work. Thought anybody, any age or training could throw white paint on a board and call it art. Interesting how a lifetime of experiences brought me to a new place. A place where my eyes are more opened, but more importantly, my heart seems to be able to recognize and embrace it.
Next to his painting was mentioned that he “didn’t want anything in the paintings that didn’t need to be there.” He focused on essentials: the medium used, (choosing all white), the support (canvas, gesso, all the elements needed to complete the work) and the way the work is (actually) attached to the wall. He believed it was never a question of what to paint, but rather how to paint it. By choosing what elements to completely leave behind, leave out, Ryman somehow captured something that spoke of mysticism to me today. Something so simplistic yet so complicated I found an almost religious experience inside his work. Something that took me beyond normal conceptualizing, random thoughts and interpretations and into something grander. All it took was for me to shift my stance. Change my point of viewing. Look beyond and through what others thought they saw, what at first, I thought I saw.
Totally inspired…..
What About Bob???
I watched as one by one people glanced, then walked past.
That in it self drew me in.
White walls, lights glowing yellowish, but clear, canvas hung, apparently “just a white” painting was on the wall. Same as the walls. White. White on white. With only a hint of shadow in places that made you realize a picture was hung.
Most saw boring.
Or nothing at all.
Maybe carrying an air of “that’s dumb”, and a desire to walk away to find something more dynamic and colorful.
I remembered the old joke, showing someone a blank piece of paper and asking, “What’s this?” Them saying, “I don’t know. An empty piece of paper?” “NO!!! It’s a cow in a snowstorm!!!!”
I remember this joke from my childhood and I'm thinking it’s still kind of funny. And who is to say it isn’t real? Isn't true?
That is what I first saw on the wall.
A cow in a snowstorm.
White on white on white on white.
But since everyone else was moving away from, moving past, moving farther, ignoring… I was drawn in. Curious.
Got closer.
Then saw.
Hundreds of intentional brush strokes. Movement. Lots of movement in the stillness. Intentional design and flow. A mastery of subtleties. Tricking the untrained eye or the eyes of someone not willing or able to come closer, dig deeper, discover and uncover. Changes so soft and so naturally embedded, one would never notice from a further distance. They couldn't unless they stepped away from what was comfortable. Move into it. Directly inside the painting. Almost literally. Nose up against canvas. Little hints of disguised color… but not the artists color. The observers. Color collected from the play of light on form. The reflection of rays off of structure. A powerfully beautiful dance completely missed by most. Unseen by all the others who went before me.
Genius.
I’ve studied the artist before. But I didn’t really understand. I criticized his work. Thought anybody, any age or training could throw white paint on a board and call it art. Interesting how a lifetime of experiences brought me to a new place. A place where my eyes are more opened, but more importantly, my heart seems to be able to recognize and embrace it.
Next to his painting was mentioned that he “didn’t want anything in the paintings that didn’t need to be there.” He focused on essentials: the medium used, (choosing all white), the support (canvas, gesso, all the elements needed to complete the work) and the way the work is (actually) attached to the wall. He believed it was never a question of what to paint, but rather how to paint it. By choosing what elements to completely leave behind, leave out, Ryman somehow captured something that spoke of mysticism to me today. Something so simplistic yet so complicated I found an almost religious experience inside his work. Something that took me beyond normal conceptualizing, random thoughts and interpretations and into something grander. All it took was for me to shift my stance. Change my point of viewing. Look beyond and through what others thought they saw, what at first, I thought I saw.
Totally inspired…..
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