wow oh wow the dekooning show at moma makes you want to run home immediately, shake your loved ones, and make a bunch of shit ASAP. the more art I see in person, the more I realize how much photographs fall short of the crushing scale and presence of being in the same space as a piece of art.
one of his paintings is STILL drying.. it keeps changing. it has a life of its own. it's painting itself now. how fucked up is that!?!
this painting hurts your eyes in a really good way. it reminds me of going to dia:beacon and feeling like i was going to throw up in/on a richard serra.
probably my favorite. he used tusche with salt mixed in to create the dappled white spots. i guess the salt acted as a resist to the acid, and once rolled, the oily ink curled away from the salt spots. it made me homesick for printing lithographs.
it's so spare, but so perfect. he made an edition of 47, which is a nerdy punchline for me because I can imagine him aiming for 50 and getting frustrated and quitting at some odd arbitrary number. no disrespect though. when you've processed a lithographic stone for a day and a half of essentially sanding down a stone with a gigantic party noise maker that weighs fifty pounds, making it perfectly level (we were taught to check perfect levelness by using cigarette papers. how gauche!), and then another day massaging said stone with gum arabic, when someone hands you something as loose as ink to draw, it is a huge huge risk. you don't want to fuck it up, because it's back to levigating for two fucking days. so basically, i'm saying, dekooning's got balls.
fuck, i miss making prints.
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