Writing/Reviews
When I saw this painting for the first time I was 18 years old and I literally sat in front of it for 4 hours. If one could truly fall in love with an inanimate object, this was it for me. So I write about the things I love. I tried to put my emotions aside and write from a formalist perspective. I wrote this in Corey Postiglione's lecture...and read it aloud, while breaking into a rash....of love...of course.
Formal Analysis of
CLYFFORD STILL
Untitled 1951-52
oil on canvas
Sarah Grana
" I want no allusions to interfere with or assist the spectator. Before the pictures I want him to be on his own, and if he finds in them an imagery unkind, unpleasant or evil, let him look to the state of his own soul."---Clyfford Still
Clyfford Still's Untitled, 1951-52 is a textually rich expanse of black oil paint; using the palette knife as his tool, Still has created a mystical, existential piece that becomes a direct experience of streaming unconscious thought. This self-referential piece can be appreciated for its use of scale, texture/light, and color.
The canvas itself is rectilinear in shape and measures 119 X 156 in. (306.3 X 396.2 cm.) It is hung on the wall about one foot off of the ground. This mural size pieces takes on a monumental presence when one stands before it. The height of the piece is two times the height of the average man and one can't help but feel dwarfed in its presence. The large scale allows for all-over paint application that is common among color-field painters like Clyfford Still. The scale also exploits the very visceral, gestural nature of the piece. The sides of the painting show remnants of turpentine and take on a murky brown hue and also show areas of raw canvas. The canvas itself was affixed to the stretcher bars with nails that have been evenly spaced throughout. There is a shadow cast by the painting below that is about four inches thick. Both sides of the canvas have diffused shadows that are about one inch thick. Recognizing the shadows truly allows the viewer to appreciate the presence of the piece and its solidity.
Still's piece is a texturally rich landscape of thickly applied paint. There is an overall crusty grit in the painting, reminiscent of asphalt or volcanic rock. These cake-like areas of texture are exquisitely detailed with lumps, bumps and porous stippling. Little pebbles of paint are scattered throughout the piece, creating a surface that resembles a rock formation or the surface of the moon. Areas of smooth flat paint application that pulls the piece together compliment this texture. There is very visible evidence of the scrapes made by the palette knife especially in areas where paint was pushed aside and mounds were formed. In certain places on the canvas the paint takes on a thick creamy substance that holds tiny air bubbles. Overall there is a uniformity to the textures of the paint because in many places there is an overwhelming sense of verticality that is reinforced by the downward, slashing marks made with the palette knife. We can visually trace the physical movement of the artist and this creates a very gestural energetic piece. The downward slashes read as strokes that have been broken up in a cutting motion that parallels the inherent violence associated with the color black. A slab of thickly applied paint that runs vertically up the piece breaks up this uniform rhythm. Due to the thickness of the paint in this area there is a sense of dimensionality and visual depth. The eye cannot help but view this section of the painting as the foreground, moving forward into the picture plane, while the uniform slash marks seems to recede and become part of the background. This slab of texture gradually breaks apart, flaking off at the edges and disappearing. It hovers on the piece like a long finger pointing upward. In the lower right-hand corner of the piece is an island shape that contrasts sharply with the overall texture of the piece. It is smooth and flat, taking on a glossy sheen. Still's painting is so texturally rich, full of grittiness with areas crusting over and flaking off as well as areas of smooth curls of frosting.
There is an interesting relationship between this beautiful texture and the way it is affected by light. Areas of thick paint that break the two-dimensional plane of the canvas catch the light at its highest point and actually reflect it, creating a glistening that can only be seen from across the room. Some of the large lumps of paint cast shadows that are barely visible.
Clyfford Still's use of color is perhaps the most dynamic aspect of this piece. The canvas is painted almost entirely black, a thick curtain of darkness that epitomizes the very idea of art referencing itself. This black expanse of paint becomes a deep well of shadows, sucking up all the light and yet sending up tiny reflections. The paint itself is very matte in most areas but due to the lighting of the museum some areas of black become darker than others, which take on a muted grayness. The use of the color black creates a sense of the motionless silence of death. Still's painting hangs on the wall; the ashen remains of a corpse; the remnants of a funeral pyre. The color black itself can be analyzed and appreciated in two distinct fashions when referring to this piece. We can view black as pure negation, a total absence or void. Thinking of black as an abyss we see it become quite melancholy and macabre. We can also view black as the non-color, whose non-representational purity becomes the vehicle in which Clyfford Still can completely remove himself from the world of representation. Much like the Rorschach ink-blot tests commonly used to analyze one's perceptions, personality characteristics and emotional functioning, Cyfford Still's piece leaves you with your own interpretation. You have no imagery to cling to, but the demons and angels of your own mind.
The vast blackness of the piece is broken up with a thin white line that runs vertically from top to bottom, just off the center of the canvas. The line becomes thin and then thickens up, disconnects and becomes perforated. This single thread of white paint contrasts dramatically with the surrounding blackness, even though it seems to be a very arbitrary gesture. The darkness is broken up by a hot slash of burnt orange paint in the lower left-hand corner. In certain areas of this strip of color the orange is very bright with a neon glow, while in other places it becomes a muddy brown color, speckled with flicks of black paint. This slash of orange begins at the bottom of the canvas being about one inch thick and tapers off to a point about twenty -four inches up. Cutting through the darkness, this jagged bolt of color seems to draw the eye away from the surrounding blanket of blackness; a bit of salvation.
The visual simplicity of Clyfford Still's 'black painting' creates a calm, peaceful mood of solitude, which is achieved through the use of scale, texture/light, and color. The viewer is utterly alone with the painting, there is no imagery or allegory to clutch onto, just man and the abyss. In the black, we see nothingness, the ever-bending spiral that has no end. Let us consider it as a slab of the underworld and in it we will see the very stuff of our soul. This dark land consists of the deep dry places where spirits hide. When we look into the abyss, do we see what our gods look like? Do we see ourselves?
Maybe we see nothing at all.
---Sarah M. Grana
CLYFFORD STILL
Untitled 1951-52
oil on canvas
Sarah Grana