Playing with blue and this container-like form from my sketchbook reminds me why I love blue so much: it seems to hold an infinite range, with the tiniest drop of any other hue turning into something new.
I’m being called to the step into the unknown, and not that safe version of the unknown where artists are routinely encouraged to go: “experiment, play and see what happens”. I’m being called to the scarier version, where I approach a doorway to a basement. As I descend the stairs in the dark, I feel around the room and find a post-it-note stuck on the wall. I make my way back upstairs into the light to see “free the shapes” written on it.
Ok, so maybe this call into the unknown isn’t so scary or dramatic, but more like the color blue, where a small shift can open up a whole new world. Why are subtle shifts sometimes harder than big leaps?
I think a lot about the experience of seeing Fred Sandback’s work for the first time at Dia Beacon. A wave of emotion came over me when I walked into a large room with a simple shape being drawn in space by red yarn.
I look at these two in particular: “Untitled (Corner Piece), 1967” and “Untitled, 1975” lithograph. These forms, though constrained by walls and edges, also have a freedom.
This ‘untitled, corner piece, 1967 and the lithograph ‘untitled, 1975’ have a lot to teach me.
