The Persistence of Pollock
Transcription
The Persistence of Pollock
THE PERSISTENCE OF POLLOCK 3 May – 28 July 2012 Bobbi Coller and Helen A. Harrison Co-Curators The Persistence of Pollock From our vantage point at the beginning of the twenty-first century, it’s hard to imagine the pictorial landscape before Pollock. There was, of course, Picasso, whose dazzling and protean presence Pollock admired and envied, but from whom he tried to differentiate himself. But when Pollock first started to exhibit his singular and revolutionary poured paintings, he caused an earthquake that shattered the syntax of visual language, destabilized fundamental expectations of how a painting should be made, and liberated future generations of artists. Something about Pollock transcends the confines of painting. His art and persona have inspired numerous creative responses in many forms: musical compositions, poems, novels, choreography, performance art, a superb film with Ed Harris, and a one-act play by his friend B.H. Friedman. His immediately identifiable poured-paint look has been easily adapted for everyday products, including textiles, wallpaper, and pottery. Pollock has become part of culture, a symbol, and a point of reference. After his death, Pollock’s widow, the artist Lee Krasner, tried to correct many inaccurate myths that grew up around him, but sometimes truth is less powerful than mythology. For artists, the idea of Pollock has become as open and multilayered as an abstract painting. This exhibition, “The Persistence of Pollock,” assembles thirteen works in a variety of media that reflect Pollock’s powerful impact and attest to his continuing relevance for contemporary artists. They represent each of the decades of the sixty years since Pollock’s death in 1956. Some of the artists express admiration, some introduce humor, some rebel against a patriarch; some challenge the artist’s machismo by introducing a feminist perspective, while others incorporate nonwestern traditions and use Pollock’s work as a springboard for further innovation. Several reference the iconic photographs of Pollock at work taken by Hans Namuth during the summer of 1950. At first dismissed by the great photographer Edward Steichen, who advised Namuth, “this is not the way to photograph an artist,”1 the powerful images helped to create and sustain a legend. This exhibition, held on the hundredth anniversary of Pollock’s birth, offers the opportunity to consider and marvel at the endurance of that legend. Alfonso Ossorio (1916-1990) In addition to being a fellow artist who greatly appreciated Pollock’s work, Alfonso Ossorio was a close friend, a Hamptons neighbor, and a loyal patron. Born in Manilla, The Philippines, into a family who derived their wealth from sugar refining, he attended secondary school in England and the United States before graduating from Harvard in 1938 with a degree in Fine Art. Ossorio’s early work was influenced by Surrealism, but in 1949 he saw Pollock’s Number 5, 1948 at the Betty Parsons Gallery and immediately purchased it. He later described his first reaction to Pollock, saying: Here I saw a man who had broken all the traditions of the past and unified them, who had gone beyond cubism, beyond Picasso and Surrealism, beyond everything that had happened in art…his work expressed both action and contemplation.”2 When Number 5, 1948 arrived at Ossorio’s home, he noticed that it was damaged. Pollock offered to repair it, so Ossorio and his partner, the dancer Ted Dragon, drove with the painting to Springs. That meeting initiated the warm friendship that grew between Pollock and Krasner and Ossorio and Dragon. It also introduced the city dwellers Ossorio and Dragon to the East End, where they decided to rent a place for the summer of 1949. Two years later, it was Jackson and Lee who recommended that Ossorio purchase the seventy-acre estate on Georgica Pond known as The Creeks, which Ossorio and Dragon made their home for the next 40 years. Also in 1951, Ossorio wrote the catalogue introduction to Pollock’s solo exhibition of black paintings at the Betty Parsons Gallery, and arranged for them to be exhibited in Paris the following year. As a result of his exposure to Pollock’s distinctive painting process, Ossorio experimented with a freer, allover style and even made poured works with thick accumulations of pigment. But beyond artistic admiration, Ossorio helped Pollock financially by buying work and sending monthly payments in anticipation of future purchases. Such an arrangement must have gone a long way to alleviate the couple’s monetary anxieties. After Pollock’s fatal car crash, Ossorio made a series of memorial works in homage to his friend and kindred spirit. Alfonso Ossorio, Untitled, mid 1950s. Oil on Masonite, 22 ¼ x 22 ¼ inches . Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center. Gift of the Ossorio Foundation Norman Rockwell (1894-1978) Perhaps the most unexpected tribute to Pollock came in 1962 in the form of a now famous magazine cover, The Connoisseur, by the brilliant illustrator Norman Rockwell. Only six years after Pollock’s death, Rockwell produced a visual metaphor of the establishment confronting the avant-garde, controlled propriety facing expanding energy, and buttoned-up grey and white contrasted with exploding color. In one inspired image, the master of realist illustration engages in a dialogue with the master of mid-century abstraction. Norman Rockwell, study for The Connoisseur, 1961. Oil on canvas board, 14 x 24 ½ inches Lent by American Illustrators Gallery, New York Rockwell’s painstaking efforts to achieve the look of a Pollock abstraction were even more remarkable than the finished composition. For each Saturday Evening Post assignment, he routinely created many studies, and transformed his environment acccordingly. For this cover, his usually tidy studio became a temporary abstract expressionist workplace, similar to Pollock’s studio, where he made a series of studies for the “action painting” portion of the image. Numerous photographs document the process, and several are uncannily reminiscent of Hans Namuth’s photographs of Pollock leaning over his work. Process photos for The Connoisseur (cover illustration for The Saturday Evening Post, January 13, 1962) Photographs by Louie Lamone, 1961, courtesy Norman Rockwell Museum Collections Part of The Connoisseur’s charm is that the viewer cannot see the spectator’s reaction. If the dapper gentleman is a surrogate for Rockwell, it must have been approving, for in the same year that he painted this illustration, Rockwell was asked to reflect on his career choice. He replied, “If I were young and starting out again I would try to be an abstract artist. But at the time I started in art, almost 50 years ago, illustration was an exciting thing. I was very lucky to be able to do the thing I liked most.”3 Rockwell seems to have enjoyed the foray into abstraction that The Connoisseur cover offered, and he played with the result. He entered the trial study illustrated above in an art competition at the Berkshire Museum, but rather than use his real name, he signed the canvas Percival (a variant of his middle name, Percevel), thus protecting his reputation as a realist illustrator. He won Honorable Mention. Lee Ufan (born 1936) Pollock had a reciprocal relationship with Asian art. He was attracted to the expressive and controlled flow of line, the effect of dark color bleeding into absorbent surfaces, and the singular shape of long scrolls. Throughout the 1940s, Pollock regularly attended exhibitions of paintings by Mark Tobey—whose work was strongly influenced by Chinese calligraphy—at the Willard Gallery in New York. And in Japan, a group of experimental artists who called themselves the Gutai Art Association, founded in 1954, greatly admired Pollock after seeing examples of his work in a 1951 exhibition. Five years later, representatives of Gutai sent Pollock a letter and copies of their magazine, which promoted the concept of “concrete art,” in which “the human spirit and matter [materials] shake hands with each other.”4 Although there is no evidence that Pollock responded, the magazines remain in his library. The Korean-born artist Lee Ufan moved to Japan in 1956, the year Pollock died. During the next decade, Lee led a movement known as Mono-ha (literally “school of things”), similar to Gutai in its response to the shifting social and political culture of post-war Japan. He concentrated his efforts on sculpture based on the relationship among natural and industrial materials and the space around them. In addition to sculpture, large-scale installations, and metaphysical writings, Lee produced a body of abstract paintings and watercolors that pulse with allusions to time and nature through repetitive gestural marks that draw attention to the meeting of pigment and surface. Lee Ufan’s Pushed-Up Ink shows Pollock’s far-reaching influence. Informed by Pollock’s experiments with ink on Japanese paper, Lee soaked his brush with animal skin glue mixed with the ink and repeatedly pressed it against absorbent paper until the liquid material bled through, often creating holes in the process. Like Pollock, Lee’s action in making the work creates a rhythm that is both intoxicating and expansive. Lee Ufan, Pushed-Up Ink, 1964. Ink on Japanese paper, 27 ½ x 21 ¾ inches. Private collection Lynda Benglis (born 1941) In 1974, Lynda Benglis posed nude holding a strategically-placed dildo for a shocking and controversial advertisement in Artforum magazine. But even before that groundbreaking photo, she had been challenging the gendered associations attributed to art movements and styles, overturning long-standing expectations. After having boldly employed the physically demanding pouring technique so associated with Pollock, as well as the active gestures of male Abstract Expressionists, Benglis was featured in a 1970 Life Magazine article entitled “Fling, Dribble and Dip.” The article made clear the connection between Benglis and Pollock by including one of Namuth’s 1950 photos of Pollock in his studio alongside working shots of Benglis. She later commented, “Pollock pioneered the movement of dealing with materials used by the artist as the prime manifestation of imagery.” 5 But Benglis’s canny, signature pourings from that time also reflect an early exploration of several other important issues which would flower in the 70s: the fracturing of 60s minimalist geometry; the emerging strength of feminist debates; the transforming orientation of ground-hugging sculpture exemplified by the work of Carl Andre; and the emerging use of eccentric materials such as latex, foam, and beeswax. Lynda Benglis, Rumpled Painting / Caterpillar, 1968. Poured pigmented latex, 4 x 95 x 51 inches. Lent by the artist, courtesy of Cheim & Read, New York. © Lynda Benglis/Licensed by VAGA, New York, NY Rumpled Painting/Caterpillar represents an internalizing and extension of Pollock’s floor-based paintings. Here, painting and sculpture are fused and the canvas disappears allowing the paint to function independently in relation to the ground. Like a neon-colored insect, the congealed paint lifts off the floor, suggesting the inching motion of a caterpillar. Early work like this led to Benglis’s monumental wall-hung eruptions of hardened polyurethane foam , so aptly titled “frozen gestures.” With these fluid, bulbous mounds, Benglis exploded Pollock’s “masculine” pourings, creating even larger gestures that fuse such oppositional categories as hard/soft, male/female, and painting/sculpture. Ray Johnson (1927-1995) Ray Johnson, the idiosyncratic and prolific founder of the New York Correspondence School, had a complex relationship with themes of celebrity, money, and death. Of equal importance with his letters, his small, dense, and coded collages evoke the constructed dream world of Cornell, the gamesmanship and punning of Duchamp, and the obsession with celebrity associated with Warhol. Along with several favorite personalities, Johnson cited Jackson Pollock in many of his carefully-assembled collages. Filled with both formal-visual and languagebased associations, Johnson’s references to Pollock tend to allude to his aura of masculinity as well as his early death. Ray Johnson, Jackson Pollock (Recipes), 1973. Collage and ink on Masonite, 15 7/8 x 15 7/8 inches. © Ray Johnson Estate, courtesy Richard L. Feigen & Co. Jackson Pollock (Recipes) is an example of Johnson’s amusing word associations. Here, a recipe for the fish, pollock, becomes fused with the artist, Pollock. In addition, beyond the humor of the coincidence, is the darker suggestion of aggression, since the pollock is both filleted and ground into burgers. The artist’s name is applied to a shape suggestive of a tombstone and the prepared fish filets are laid out on a plate surrounded with funerary flowers. Johnson’s characteristic glyph-like shadow shapes surround the recipe and central square, personalizing the ready-made elements and adding an unknown symbolic system similar to a mysterious, archaic language. Humorous, yet serious, this work turns a typical magazine recipe into a reminder of mortality. At the age of 67, Ray Johnson committed suicide in a premeditated and orderly way. Mike Bidlo (born 1953) Like an idolized and feared father figure, Pollock looms over subsequent generations of artists. And, like rebellious, talented progeny, many artists demonstrate their independence by mastering the parent’s accomplishments in order to surpass him. It is easy to project the oedipal myth onto Pollock, an artist who, during his own brief but outsized life, explored both cultural narratives and psychoanalysis in his quest to surpass the School of Paris, and especially Picasso. As a young artist, Mike Bidlo chose Hans Namuth’s movie of Pollock painting as the basis for his first show, a performance reenactment in 1982 at P.S.1. Looking back on it in 1993, he observed: It was this rebellious gesture to do the Pollocks, to destabilize the idolatry. And now it’s all been consumed, which is good because I always thought you couldn’t cause change from without, you had to be in the system to cause change. So maybe it’s all working in a way—for this minute—Tomorrow is gonna be another story. But it’s still important that the work be controversial, say something to do with freeing myself from the bondage of their tyranny.6 The imitation of Pollock paintings, however, did not come easily. After at least a year of studying the way Pollock moved, the way he controlled the viscosity and layering of paint, and the way the paint was absorbed into the canvas, Bidlo could convincingly reproduce a Pollock which he then entitled “Not Pollock.” A pioneer in the appropriation movement, Bidlo has proceeded to replicate works by many artists including Picasso, Matisse, De Chirico, Mondrian, Warhol, de Kooning, Lichtenstein, and Schnabel. Each of these “Nots” raises questions of influence, identification, originality, authenticity, context, admiration and rebellion. In this exhibition we have included a dress that Bidlo “Pollockized” for the gallerist Gracie Mansion to wear in 1982. Transforming a painting into a garment (and vice versa) transcends boundaries, reminding us of another Mike Bidlo, Jackson Pollock Dress, 1982. appropriative art form, fashion. Underlying the Enamel on satin. Lent by Gracie Mansion, transgressive gesture of wearing a “Pollock” is the New York. Photo © Gary Azon acknowledgment that even debased and transported from the museum wall to everyday life, the distinctive look of the paint pattern retains its unique reference to Pollock and its iconic quality. François Fiedler (1921-2001) Although François Fiedler was born in Hungary, studied at the Fine Arts Academy of Budapest, and became part of the art circle around the influential art dealer Aimé Maeght in Paris, it was his encounter with the work of the American artist Jackson Pollock that transformed his art. Fiedler first saw Pollock’s work in 1959 at the exhibition “Jackson Pollock et la Nouvelle Peinture Américaine” in Paris. But it was not until the Pollock retrospective at the Centre Pompidou in 1981 that Fiedler was decisively influenced. According to his nephew Peter Fiedler, the artist was in “deep mourning” following the death of his mother and his art world mentor, Maeght. Visiting the Pompidou exhibition, however, “he was totally lost in Pollock’s painting and returned to life again…Pollock made a deep impact in his art.” As his nephew recalls, François Fiedler described his reaction this way: I entered the painting…I felt the dramatic force. The pictorial energy of canvas enchanted me. I felt the full freedom of the rhythms. I recognized the duality in Pollock’s works—improvisation and precise interpretation at the same time. I was fascinated by the works of Pollock and [they] definitely influenced my own working methods.7 François Fiedler, Untitled, 1985. Etching, 25 ¼ x 25 ½ inches Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center. Gift of Peter Fiedler, Budapest Robert Arneson (1930-1992) During a ten year period, beginning in 1982, the ceramic artist Robert Arneson produced over 60 works in homage to Jackson Pollock. Many are relief portraits that hang on the wall and, with the difficult medium of ceramic glazes, mimic poured paint on the artist’s face or clothing, fusing the man with his production. Robert Arneson, Pollock, 1983. Glazed ceramic. Not in exhibition. Robert Arneson, Saga of Jackson Pollock BookEnds, 1988. Bronze, each 9 ¼ x 8 ½ x 4 ½ inches. Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center. Gift of the artist More unusual is the pair of bronze bookends that use the space between the two sections to divide time. With the addition of written phrases and models of Pollock’s notorious car, they project a story of his fatal demise. Handcrafted with inscriptions that read like a ballad to a flawed folk hero, the sculpted model of a speeding Oldsmobile on one bookend and the overturned wrecked car on the other make tangible the tragedy of Pollock’s early death. Arneson imagined the moments immediately before and after the crash, portraying two crucial scenes from the Pollock saga—the first conveys sheer recklessness, and the second the tragic consequences. The bookends, like two tombstone slabs, contain the date, setting, and imagined lines of dialogue of the final event that haunts the Pollock legacy. Janine Antoni (born 1964) In Loving Care, first performed in 1992, Janine Antoni brilliantly recasts the physical engagement of Abstract Expressionism as a woman’s activity, as in her performance at the Wadsworth Atheneum in Hartford represented in the current exhibition. Antoni replaced paint with a product usually associated with women, hair dye, with a brand name, Loving Care, calculated to appeal to the empathetic qualities associated with women. Instead of a paintbrush, the artist’s own hair becomes the applicator as she kneels to cover the bare floor with sweeping movements. Loving Care subverts the macho “action painter” stereotype by creating a bold gestural composition using the softness of a woman’s tresses. Janine Antoni, Loving Care, 1992-96. Performed at the Wadsworth Atheneum, 1996. DVD courtesy of the artist and Luhring Augustine, New York The year after she first performed Loving Care, Antoni again merged art history with mundane materials when she sculpted fourteen self-portraits mounted on classical pedestals in the manner of Roman Imperial busts. Her materials were soap and chocolate, and her performance entailed licking each of the sculptures. Lick and Lather recorded the reshaping and eventual erasure of the artist’s own features, accompanied by the sounds and aromas emitted during the process. Janine Antoni, Lick and Lather, 1993 As Antoni explained: (detail). Not in exhibition. I’m interested in everyday body rituals and converting the most basic sorts of activities (eating, bathing, mopping) into sculptural processes. Even in doing this, I imitate fine art rituals such as chiseling (with my teeth), painting (with my hair and eyelashes), and modeling and molding (with my own body). In terms of materials, I use what is appropriate to the activity. Those materials, soap, lard, chocolate, and hair dye, all come in contact with my body within our culture. These materials also have a specific relationship to women in our society. The gender of the viewer informs the reading of the work.8 Red Grooms (born 1937) Red Grooms is renowned for whimsically exaggerating contemporary people and settings, often transforming them into three-dimensional environments. A Grooms tableau is a carnival version of the real world. In the 1990s, he turned his playful eye to iconic artists such as Picasso, Francis Bacon, and Henry Moore, giving us working portraits of twentieth century masters amid their signature works. Red Grooms, Jackson in Action, 1997. Color 3-D lithograph, 26 x 33 x 7 ¼ inches. Lent by Marlborough Graphics, New York Grooms’s tribute to Pollock relies on a cubist vocabulary to put the “action” into Action Painting, and compress a great deal of biographical information into a relatively small space. Set in the famous East Hampton studio (with the fourth wall removed like a theater stage), the artist, surrounded by his paints and props, is portrayed working like a stop-action, multi-armed dynamo on a large canvas spread on the floor. Grooms merges visual information from several key photographs of the painter and his wife, and includes both Lee Krasner in the doorway and the photographer Hans Namuth recording the scene. As if to amplify the dynamism of Pollock’s method, the entire composition literally rises off the page towards the viewer. Vik Muniz (born 1961) Vik Muniz creates strikingly beautiful photographs based on canonical works from the history of art and popular culture. The artist first reproduces the image on the studio floor, using eccentric and unexpected materials such as sugar, sequins, sand, toys, peanut butter, or diamonds. He then photographs the composition from a height, turning a familiar image into a study of form, color and texture. From a distance, one immediately recognizes the quotation, but, moving closer, wondrous accumulations of materials emerge. As the artist observed, “The moment when one thing turns into another is magical.”9 Vik Muniz, Action Painter III (Action Photo IV), Pictures of Chocolate, 1997-2009. Digital C-Print, 37 ½ x 37 inches. Lent by Kay Childs Hans Namuth, Jackson Pollock painting Autumn Rhythm: Number 30, 1950. © Hans Namuth Ltd. Like several other artists in this exhibition, Muniz based his tribute to Pollock, begun in1997, on the imagery of Hans Namuth. Unlike anyone else, however, Muniz chose an edible material, Bosco chocolate syrup, as his medium. The syrup has a viscous consistency and glossy sheen, similar to the enamel paint that Pollock favored. Building on his photographic model, Muniz next wanted to create portraits of real people using materials that reflected their lives. He focused on a group of impoverished workers in Brazil who support themselves by salvaging recyclable materials from the enormous garbage dump, Jardim Gramacho, in Muniz’s native city, Rio de Janiero. The project, documented in the awardwinning 2010 film Waste Land, became a profound and socially transforming experience, empowering the workers as they participated both as subjects and in the creation of the photographs. With extraordinary sensitivity and intelligence, Muniz used art to dignify and uplift the lives of a group of disadvantaged people, and, in return, he felt equally enriched. Joe Fig (born 1968) In 2000, Joe Fig’s curiosity about the day-to-day working habits and creative processes of the artists he most admired led him to embark on a project to recreate, in miniature scale, the interiors of those artists’ studios. One of his first subjects was Jackson Pollock working in and around his studio on Springs-Fireplace Road in East Hampton. Joe Fig, Namuth’s Pollock #10, 2004. Mixed media, 13 x 13 x 13 inches. Lent by the Parrish Art Museum, Southampton, New York. Museum purchase, Daniel Downs Bequest Fund and Mrs. Hickman Price Fund, 2007.7 Using Namuth’s images as his source, Fig made several meticulous reproductions of Pollock and his surroundings with uncanny accuracy. The scale and detail lift the twodimensional photographs into a threedimensional zone situated somewhere beyond childhood dollhouses and museum dioramas. Fig lavished the same care when recreating the studios of other art-world idols including Matisse, de Kooning, Newman, Warhol, and Lichtenstein. The effect of seeing them all together is like viewing the tour-de-force painting, Gallery of the Louvre, by Samuel F. B. Morse, in which he reproduced, in miniature scale, many of the great works from the museum in one gallery. It makes the viewer marvel that one artist can repeat so many artistic landmarks. The next phase of Fig’s quest to understand artists’ creative lives involved living artists. He visited and interviewed fifty artists, gathered information, and photographed and measured their studios to help recreate each environment. The result was a book, published in 2009, pairing the interviews and studio constructions of 24 artists, including Chuck Close, Malcolm Morley, Eric Fischl and April Gornik (married artists with adjoining studios), Philip Pearlstein (the oldest), and Dana Schutz (the youngest). The project can be seen as an historic picture of the varieties of working practices of artists at the beginning of the twenty-first century. “My book, Inside the Painter’s Studio, offers a rare glimpse into the universe of the artist’s studio,” said Fig. “The questions asked deal with the day-to-day creative life, and the real practicalities of what it takes to be an artist.”10 Arnold Chang (born 1954) The most recent work in this exhibition was made by Arnold Chang, an artist who has immersed himself in the ancient tradition of Chinese ink painting, but who never lived in China. He has reflected on his choice to engage in such a formal and traditional art form as a search for structure, discipline, and balance after experiencing the tumultuous decades of the 60s and 70s in America. Born and raised in New York City, he remembers as a child seeing the great, densely poured Pollocks in New York collections, such as the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Long after Western eyes had become accustomed to the gestural sweeps of Abstract Expressionism, the jolt of seeing Pollock’s work for the first time was reenacted in mainland China in 1981. As a result of the United States’ formal diplomatic recognition of the People’s Republic of China in 1979, cultural exchanges increased and the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston was chosen to send a stellar selection of American paintings from their collection to be displayed in Beijing and Shanghai. Thirty years later, Chinese artists still remember their reaction to seeing Pollock’s Number 10, 1949 [above]. One important critic vividly recalled the event. “I almost entered a state of unconsciousness,” he said. “Chinese art always placed an emphasis on consciousness and political stance. With abstract art, people could freely express their emotions.”11 For its 2010 exhibition, Fresh Ink: 10 Takes on Chinese Tradition, the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston sponsored an artist-in-residence program, in which leading artists from China and the Chinese diaspora engaged in dialogues with classical examples from the museum’s superb collection of Chinese art. Chang, the only American-born artist in the exhibition, decided to venture beyond the Chinese collection. Believing it was more appropriate for him to respond to an American work, he chose Pollock’s Number 10, 1949 for his inspiration—the same painting that astonished viewers in China in 1981. The museum allowed Chang [left] to study the Pollock horizontally, as it was made and the way one reads a scroll. He resonated with many elements, such as the fluid and expressive lines of paint and the individual character of the patterns that identify the hand of the artist. These qualities were also valued in Chinese brush painting beginning in the late 11th century, when scholars began to reject illusionism and embrace the unique handwriting that reflected the spirit of each individual artist. Although they kept to a horizontal landscape format, their imagery became looser, more a reflection of the artist’s personal interpretation than a realistic rendering of the scene. Arnold Chang, Brushwork Study for Reorienting Pollock, 2008. Ink on paper, 25 x 87 ½ inches. Lent by the artist For Brushwork Study, Chang used traditional brushes, trusting that the American audience, familiar with the language of Abstract Expressionism, could easily enter the stylized world of Chinese ink painting. Working with the Pollock was unusually satisfying for Chang. He felt that Pollock’s nature-related gestures provided a point of integration for the two sources of his identity—his Chinese heritage and American visual culture. "My choice of Jackson Pollock as a model was an attempt to coax modern audiences into recognizing the abstract qualities inherent to classical Chinese painting,” he explained. “It was also a way for me to integrate the American and Chinese sides of my identity.”12 The resulting work is a beautiful mixture of rhythmic skeins of ink, reminiscent of Pollock, placed with the delicacy and limited palette of a Chinese scroll painting. Jackson Pollock, Number 10, 1949. Enamel and aluminum paint on canvas, mounted on wood, 18 x 107 ¼ inches. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Tompkins Collection and Sophie M. Friedman Fund. If the reasons for Pollock’s persistence are complex, one thing is clear: we would not still be talking about him if his work did not still engage us. Standing in front of a large, juicy Pollock today, the paint on the surface is still fresh and the anti-gravitational force can still reach into your stomach and twist your insides. One hundred years after Pollock’s birth on January 28, 1912 in Cody, Wyoming, artists are still moved by the work and the man. When I asked Joe Fig what Pollock means to him, he responded: I am not interested in the “myth” of Jackson Pollock. I’d rather focus on the man and his creative process. He was a young artist who studied with and became part of the Tom Benton family. He was a man who challenged himself in the studio. A man who through discipline, faith and hard work listened to his inner voice and followed his own vision and came up with a way of creating that was his own. By doing so, he changed the American culture and the course of art history. He was courageous. 13 Bobbi Coller, Ph.D. New York City April 2012 NOTES 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Hans Namuth, “Photographing Pollock,” in Pollock Painting: Photographs by Hans Namuth (New York: Agrinde Publications Ltd., 1980), n.p. Alfonso Ossorio, “Jackson Pollock: The Artist,” www.nga.gov/feature/pollock/artist2.shtm, accessed April 4, 2012. Norman Rockwell, “If I Were Starting Out Again,” Los Angeles Examiner, December 24, 1961. Jiro Yoshihara, “Gutai Art Manifesto,” 1956. Translated in “Under Each Other’s Spell: Gutai and New York (East Hampton: Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center, 2009), p. 17. Robert Pincus-Witten, “Lynda Benglis: The Frozen Gesture”, Artforum magazine, November 1974, p. 54. Mike Bidlo, interview with Anna Bonney, Bomb Magazine 45, fall 1993. Peter Fiedler, personal communication, March 6, 2012. Laura Cottingham, "Janine Antoni: Biting Sums Up My Relationship to Art History," FlashArt (1993), pp. 104-05. Vik Muniz, quoted in Waste Land, 2010, directed by Lucy Walker. Joe Fig, interview with Nicole Pajer,"Inside the Painter's Studio," March 31, 2011. www.chinashopmag.com/2011/03/joe-fig-takes-you-inside-the-painter’s-studio/, accessed March 28, 2012. Li Xianting, quoted in Meredith Palmer, “’81, When East Met Western Art,” The Washington Post, Dec. 25, 2011. Arnold Chang, quoted in "Up Close and Personal with Asian American Artist, Arnold Chang," www.jadeluckclub.com/close-personal-artist-arnold-chang/, accessed March 28, 2012. Joe Fig, personal correspondence, March 16, 2012. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Assembling some of the numerous examples of artists’ responses to Jackson Pollock for this exhibition yielded many rewards. Among them was the opportunity to discover the variety of ways in which Pollock’s work has spoken to generations of artists. We sincerely appreciate the generosity of all the lenders to the exhibition. We were also greatly assisted by representatives of several art galleries, and wish to thank Alexandra Ferrari, Natalia Sacasa and Caroline Burghardt, Luhring Augustine; Frances Beatty and Jennifer Grossman, Richard L. Feigen & Co.; Judy Goffman Cutler and Sara Bliss, American Illustrators Gallery; John Cheim and Karen Polak, Cheim & Read; Simone M. Ayers and Michael Prete, Marlborough Graphics; Barry Rosenberg, Contemporary Art Galleries, University of Connecticut, Storrs: Venus Van Ness, Norman Rockwell Museum; Alicia Longwell and Chris McNamara, The Parrish Art Museum; and Megan Malloy and Katie Rashid, Sikkema Jenkins & Co. In addition, we appreciate the participation and generosity of artists Janine Antoni, Mike Bidlo, Arnold Chang and Joe Fig. We are also most grateful to Francis V. O’Connor for bringing the work of François Fiedler to our attention, and to Peter Fiedler, nephew of the artist, for providing essential biographical information. In addition, Michael Blakeney introduced us to the work of Arnold Chang, and Meredith Palmer loaned us the fascinating historic photograph of Chinese audiences admiring Pollock in 1981. Lastly, we would like to thank Joanne Feierman for graciously acting as first reader of the essay and offering thoughtful advice. Bobbi Coller and Helen A. Harrison, co-curators PHOTOGRAPH CREDITS Antoni: Prudence Cummings Associates at Anthony d’Offay Gallery, London Benglis: Courtesy Cheim & Read / VAGA Bidlo: © Gary Azon Chang: © Bruce M. White China: © Meredith Palmer, 1981 THE PERSISTENCE OF POLLOCK Checklist of the exhibition Janine Antoni (b. 1964) Loving Care, 1992 Performance video Lent by the artist, courtesy of Luhring Augustine, New York Red Grooms (b. 1937) Jackson in Action, 1997 Color 3-D lithograph, 26 x 33 x 7¼ inches Lent by Marlborough Graphics, New York Robert Arneson (1930-1992) Saga of Jackson Pollock Book-Ends, 1988 Bronze, each 9 ¼ x 8 ½ x 4 ½ inches Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center. Gift of the artist Lynda Benglis (b. 1941) Rumpled Painting / Caterpillar, 1968 Poured pigmented latex, 4 x 95 x 51 inches Lent by the artist, courtesy of Cheim & Read, New York On display in the studio Mike Bidlo (b. 1953) Jackson Pollock dress, 1982 Enamel on satin, 50 inches long Lent by Gracie Mansion Ray Johnson (1927-1995) Jackson Pollock (Recipes), 1973 Collage on masonite, 15 7/8 x 15 7/8 inches Lent by Richard L. Feigen & Co., New York Vik Muniz (b. 1961) Action Painter III (Action Photo IV), Pictures of Chocolate, 1997-2009 Digital C-Print, 37 ½ x 37 inches Lent by Kay Childs Alfonso Ossorio (1916-1990) Untitled , mid 1950s Oil on masonite, 22 ¼ x 22 ¼ inches Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center. Gift of the Ossorio Foundation Arnold Chang (b. 1954) Brushwork Study for Reorienting Pollock, 2008 Ink on paper, 25 x 87 ½ inches Lent by the artist Norman Rockwell (1894-1978) Study for The Connoisseur, 1961 (Cover for The Saturday Evening Post, January 13, 1962) Oil on canvas board, 14 x 24 ½ inches Lent by American Illustrators Gallery, Inc., New York François Fiedler (1921-2001) Untitled, 1985 Etching, 25 ¼ x 25 ½ inches Pollock-Krasner House and Study Center. Gift of Peter Fiedler, Budapest Lee Ufan (b. 1936) Pushed-Up Ink, 1964 Ink on Japanese paper, 27 ½ x 21 ¾ x 1 7/8 inches Private collection Joe Fig (b. 1968) Namuth’s Pollock #10, 2004 Mixed media, 13 x 13 x 13 inches Lent by the Parrish Art Museum, Southampton, New York. Purchase, Daniel Downs Bequest and Mrs. Hickman Price Fund, 2007.7