The woman and man are eternally bound in a psychopathologically perverse interpretation of yin and yang.
One man is found pulling leaves from a stem, as if counting down time. Another man stares longingly at a pile of petals.
Its minimal linear elements raced around the side of the canvas and played with my expectations of where paint would normally be.
“Less is less, and more is more. No more, no less.”
To my eyes, this is a love letter to the maternal archetype—the maternal ideal.
Then there is the color itself – the purity of color and the psychological effects that pure color can have not only on the eye, but also on one’s emotional states and well-being.
I like thinking, though, that the painting makes a complete body out of dispersed heterogeneous parts, a complicated body constrained and subdivided by guardrails, pedestals, canvas edges, bowler hats and neckties.
… she only painted the parts of her body that she could physically feel in the moment…
…the evidence of his happiness made me happy, and for that I was grateful.
… Even as invented portraits, they have that quality that “someone is home.”
He has skirted being defined by tradition, modernism or post-modernism by replacing theory and ideology with personal expression.
But with Hartung it felt different. He did what I am currently trying to do.