i can appreciate minimalist art, i wouldn't mind it in a sitting room, but i have difficulty being very moved by most pieces. if i tried to make something minimalist i wouldn't know where to begin. i guess that's why i respect it, i have no sense of how it works. but at the same time i don't connect. a massive expanse of canvas all in one color is impressive, but in the same way a skyscraper is. it creates a sense of awe and power, but i'd prefer a gaudi building any day, information overload and all.
i think it goes back to the need to distract myself. minimalist art leaves me alone with my head. my thoughts are focused, but on what? the open ended question presented by those sorts of paintings and sculptures makes me uncomfortable, i think. i feel more at home when i can occupy myself trying to put the pieces together instead of trying to find the puzzle in the first place.
however, as always, there are exceptions. throwing out the whole concept of minimalist art based on principle is ridiculous. there are, of course, artists considered minimalist that i do quite enjoy, although they are usually the minimalists-with-a-lot-happening sort as opposed to the minimalists-with-nothing-to-look-at sort.
|alan mccollum, plaster surrogates|
alan mccollum is one of those that i wouldn't mind spending a day looking at. his work, of course; i have no idea what he looks like.
look at those walls. overly full. wonderful. personally, i don't think i'd categorize him as a minimalist, but i'm not the one writing the art history text books.
this one over here is pretty fantastic. the most popular girls' and guys' names as of 2004, 600 of each. i wonder if my name is on there? i'm not sure what about it i like so much. i think something about the repetition that is actually quite different, each and every one. but then again, those names are the most popular in the states. the prints are unique to themselves but the names are far from it. ah, the wonderful loops.
and i guess there are many who are considered minimalist in some ways and something completely different in others. obviously, it depends on one's definition of minimalism. kenneth noland, for example, is just great. i could see how he could be accused of being a minimalist, but at the same time, i feel like the rough edges of his paint pull him away from being on that side of the fence fully. i mean, there's a lot to look at there.
|allan mccollum, each and every one of you|
|kenneth noland, beginning|
but then there's donald judd. so very minimalist in so many mediums. the iuam has one of this works. actually, they might have a few, the storage there holds some ridiculous number of works like two or three times what they have out. anyway. he's great and all, but it just doesn't hit me. again, i can see the beauty, but i move on quite quickly. i can't quite put my finger on what's different, visually, from this piece and mccollum's plaster surrogates. but there's something, maybe the sense of slight chaos, that judd doesn't give me that i can't do without.
the world may never know.
the world may never know.