CRITICAL EYE ART IN AMERICA 35
grasp: each step one takes changes the configuration of
near and far. Often, as in the tabletop sculptures collec-
tively titledCircus of Pure Feeling for Malevich, 4 Square
Circus, 16 Parts(2009), smooth curves orbit around com-
plicated nuclei, like a peripheral field around a focus. The
complexity of all these works requires sustained attention
to be appreciated.
Like a Chinese hand-scroll painting,Das Erdbeben
in Chili(The Earthquake in Chile), 1999, a 40-foot-long
acrylic on canvas, makes better sense as a sequence of
views. Though abstract, it clearly suggests an earthquake
shaking the ground apart. As one moves across its length,
topographic arrays of lines warp forward and ebb. Twisted
window frames^4 topple amid chemical-colored hazes. Coiled
forms signaling aftershocks spring out. But one needs to
come in close to have this experience. From a distance (or
in a reproduction of the whole), the piece looks chaotic
and crowded. As I examined it, right off the elevator at the
Whitney, I thought, this is what reality feels like: successive,
overlapping layers of phenomena that bubble around me.
Das Erdbeben in Chilibuilds on Jackson Pollock’s
conception of the abstract mural as an expansive, overarch-
ing field of vision, articulated by many painterly incidents.
Stella reconceives Pollock’s dribbles as several different
kinds of spatial arabesques—Stella’s seem to be informed
by chaos theory and turbulence patterns, while Pollock
relied on intuition. Though a return to the flat rectangular
format for Stella, this painting aggressively packs in spa-
tially suggestive shapes (the windows, coils, topographies)
and other graphic devices (dots, hazes of color, text—the
title appears at the bottom and refers to a story by Hein-
rich von Kleist). All of these are kept distinct even as they
interpenetrate. It’s an impressive accomplishment, perhap-sprompting Laura Owens’s more recent incorporation of
hard-edge graphics in her painting. (The two artists have a
conversation in the catalogue.)STELLA SMOKEDcigars for decades, contemplating
the smoke rings he blew. In his catalogue essay, exhibition
curator Michael Auping quotes the artist: “A smoke ring is
a gesture that is intrinsically a part of space, integrated into
it. It doesn’t sit in front of space and it isn’t in the back-
ground. It’s like a molecular part of it. I’ve always wished
I could do that with a painted gesture.”^5 In 1990, Stella’s
assistants constructed an 8-foot-square box to photograph
smoke rings he blew; they captured them simultaneously
from six angles, and then made digital simulations of the
three-dimensional forms using CAD software. Stella has
been processing and collaging these forms ever since,
as abstractions that create delightfully vivid illusions of
morphing space.
Stella’s work has always remained abstract. Still, he has
extended his scope, changing the parameters by harnessing
specific inspirations. For the “Moby-Dick” series, which
began in 1986 and extended over 12 years, Stella produced
a work for each of Melville’s 135 chapters. InLoomings
(1986) andThe Grand Armada(1989), wave forms canti-
lever aggressively toward the viewer.The Whiteness of the
Whale(1987) submerges darker colors beneath projecting
plates of eddying whiteness. Without being illustrative,
these works do capture the sublimity that Melville found
in whaling. Works that combine intricate crumbles of
splashed molten metal with clustered wiring, like the
14-foot-tallRaft of the Medusa(1990) and the 19-foot-
longThree Mile Island(1991), were widely dismisssed as
“space junk.” The allusions in Stella’s titles make clearDas Erdbeben in
Chili [N#3],1999,
acrylic on canvas,
12 by 40 feet.
Private collection.
Photo Steven
Sloman.AsIexaminedthe40-footpainting,Ithought,thisis
what reality feels like: successive, overlapping layers of
phenomena that bubble around me.