R.I.P. Robert Ryman

Robert Ryman, 1930 - 2019

Whilst it grieves me to post two obituaries, back-to-back - it would be remiss not to mark the passing of the painter, Robert Ryman, a few days ago.  He was 88, and had seemingly ploughed one of the most enduringly single-minded furrows in the whole of Modern Art.

Robert Ryman, 'Classico 5', Oil On Paper, 1968

Ryman was one of those go-to figures, to whom I've repeatedly turned as an exemplar of a particular attitude to painting over the years, despite having only ever seen one significant exhibition of his works (on paper - I think), at London's Shoulder Of Mutton Gallery, some years ago.  All too often my acquaintanceship with them has only been in reproduction - making any direct encounter a cause of some excitement.  And when I turned to the keyboard to write this, I realised I knew very little of the man himself, or his life - despite the fact his paintings have always loomed vividly in my imagination.  

Robert Ryman, 'Director', Oil On GRP, 1983

I think this may be, in part, because a somewhat pristine sense of the hermetic seems to cling to his oeuvre - something possibly magnified by its appearing to have arrived almost fully-formed, back in the mid 1950s.  The work seems to stand less for the man, than simply for itself.  Indeed, its conceptual rootedness in the idea of how one might define or specify an artefact that might be labelled 'a painting', makes any sense of autobiography or personal expression pretty much irrelevant.  Some might find that alienating - but I've always found it strangely thrilling.

But I'm getting ahead of myself, perhaps.  Ryman was, of course, primarily known as 'that guy who just paints white paintings' (not technically true - his first significant piece was  orange).  That he should have compiled such an extensive and unfailingly elegant catalogue of monochrome ('no-chrome'?) abstract pieces, over more than sixty years - without ever exhausting the potential of such a seemingly simplistic formula, feels little short of miraculous.

If art historical labels are required, I guess he belongs with the Minimalists. Rather delightfully - I now learn, he supplemented the early years of his career by working as a gallery attendant at MOMA, in New York, alongside those other noted exponents of the genre, Sol LeWitt, Dan Flavin and Al Held.  But, whilst Ryman certainly shared a superficial aesthetic with such artists, there's perhaps also something a little too deliciously painterly about the work for it to fit into a strictly orthodox interpretation of Minimalism.  There's often a residue of the earlier Abstract Expressionism that first caught his eye on his move north.  In fact there are certain respects in which Ryman seems to bridge those two American art moments - perhaps just as Jasper Johns bridges Ab. Ex. and Pop with a similar visual elegance and philosophical detachment.  Either way, It seems Ryman's real agenda was simply to investigate what constitutes a painting - by stripping it back to its simplest essential components, then trying to find out in how many different ways they might be deployed without repetition.

Robert Ryman, 'Wing', Date & Medium Unknown

For Ryman, that might involve brushing his paint smoothly and uniformly over a variety of substrates, from canvas - to aluminium - to plastic; or squeezing it directly from the tube - to form wiggling worm-casts of whiteness; or building puddled impastos and snowy crusts of pigment; or exploring the potential of white to veil, mask, or not-quite obliterate another underlying colour.  Or, indeed - pretty much any other way you might be able to imagine deploying an endless variety of white pigments onto a flat plane.  White, it seems to me, was the obvious choice, not just to encapsulate the fetish of blank/blanc nullity, or to signify anti-emotion - but also because (as Newton proved) it contains all other colours.  It that sense, I suppose white paint might be said to represent all paint.

Robert Ryman, 'Untitled', Oil On Linen, 1965

Robert Ryman, 'Attendant', Medium Unknown, 1984

Robert Ryman, 'Untitled', Graphite & Pastel On Plexiglass & Steel, 1976

The by-product, is also that it allows painter and viewer alike, to luxuriate in the myriad ways in which a painted surface might absorb, reflect, modulate, energise, or otherwise interact with the ambient light it encounters, and in the most unencumbered way imaginable.  The subtle incidents of shadow on one of Ryman's refined and highly nuanced surfaces, thus become some of the most paradoxically breathtaking events in painting of any age.  Should all of that really be insufficient to hold your attention, he also went on to explore the physical construction of the painting/object too - either by leaving exposed portions of the raw substrate; deliberately drawing attention to the wall attachments; or simply asking whether a painting might not just as easily be presented horizontally, as flush to the wall.  I mean, really - what's not to enjoy?  Who really needs all that distracting extraneous meaning?

Robert Ryman, 'Checklist', Pastel, Conte Crayon & Charcoal On Paper, 1961

Robert Ryman, 'Record', Medium Unknown, 1983

Ultimately though, this is an obituary, and basic respect requires at least some fleshing out of the man himself - I suppose.  Robert Ryman was born in Nashville, in 1930, and moved to New York in 1952 - after a short stint in the military during the Korean war.  Interestingly, he initially set out to be a Jazz musician, and had studied under pianist Lennie Tristano, before committing himself to painting instead.  He married the art critic, Lucy Lippard in 1961, and later - the artist, Merrill Wagner.  Mostly, though, he was a painter - pure and simple.  He also claimed that the real purpose of painting was to give pleasure.  I can think of no better testament or ambition.

         

Gerhard Richter: White Paintings

Gerhard Richter, 'Abstract Painting (Abstraktes Bild)', 2009

The white abstract painting is apparently a recognised sub-genre and a challenge that several noted painters have taken on for different reasons.  It's something I've thought about recently after the 'Panorama' exhibition where I discovered that Gerhard Richter has also engaged with it.

Kazimir Malevich, 'Suprematist Composition: White on White', 1918

The tradition began with Kazimir Malevich’s ‘Supremacist Composition, White on White’,  in 1918, - essentially a depiction of the space a square form might occupy. As Modernism spawned the abstract logic of pure form over narrative so, understandably, the all-white abstract represented one conclusion in that search for the perfectly distilled art object. 

Robert Rauschenberg, 'White Painting (Three Panels)', 1951 

Robert Rauschenberg, 'White Painting,  (Seven Panels)', 1951 

John Cage, Score to '4'33"', Composed 1952

In mid-century Robert Rauschenberg’s pure, white monochromes provided a visual analogue to composer John Cage’s famously silent ‘4’:33”‘.  Rauschenberg removed all visual content from groups of white panels on whose surfaces shadows and transient light effects may or may not occur, just as Cage’s piece is wholly the sum of any sounds heard during its ‘performance’.  Both create an open arena for pure ambience and chance occurrences in different media.

Robert Ryman, 'Series No. 13 (White)',  2004

Robert Ryman, 'Untitled',  c.1965

Robert Ryman, 'Untitled' 1958

Robert Ryman, 'Untitled', 2003

Surely, the king of white painting is Robert Ryman.  His entire career is essentially a project to explore how many ways white paint might be applied to, and thus appear, on various surfaces.  By reducing painting to its basic physical and visual components he has repeatedly investigated the medium’s intrinsic properties, - without getting boring.

Gerhard Richter, 'Cage 2', 2006

Richter’s recent whites belong to the category of his work exploring obliteration through smearing or scraping.  Typically of his abstracts, their final appearance is the result of dragging successive layers of paint over underlying statements.  Richter’s white pigment seems the perfect signifier for cancelling, suggesting a return to an original state or even opaque correction fluid.  In the larger examples, like 'Abstract Painting (Abstraktes Bild)', there are hints of underlying landscape allusions and also some kinship with the 'Cage' cycle of abstracts acquired by the Tate, (that's Cage as in John Cage...).

Gerhard Richter 'White (Weiss)', 2006

Gerhard Richter, 'White (Weiss)', 2006

Gerhard Richter, 'Grey (Grau),' 2006

'White, (Weiss)', 'White, (Weiss)' and 'Grey, (Grau)' are small works on a metallic substrate called Aludibond and may connect with Ryman’s agenda somewhat.  They are actually as much about black as white but with white literally coming out on top.  As Ryman has sometimes done, he allows a wealth of tonal and optical colour nuance to occur by simple manipulation of the two tonal extremes.  Mostly, I interpret them as saying ‘This painting is what happens if I apply this action to those materials in a certain way’.  They represent an aspect of Richter’s work like charming calling cards and I fell in love instantly when I saw them at ‘Panorama’. 

'Content 1', Acrylics & Household Gloss on Panel, 2004

Finally, this talk of white paintings reminds me of one of my own.  ‘Content 1’ was amongst the first group of paintings I made using words in 2004.  They employed terms relating to various properties of painting and the all- white model seemed ideal for a painting filled with described content without really having any.