- 171
Robert Ryman
Description
- Robert Ryman
- 18 Panels (Study for Brussels)
- each signed, dated 74 and respectively numbered
- acrylic polymer on black and dark blue vinyl panels, in 18 parts
- Each panel: 9 by 9 in. 23 by 23 cm.
Provenance
Acquired by the present owner from the above in 1976
Exhibited
Baltimore, Museum of Art, Fourteen Artists, April – June 1975
Amsterdam, Stedelijk Museum, The Becht Collection: Visual Art from the Collection of Agnes and Frits Becht, April 1984, cat. no. 413, p. 165, illustrated
Condition
In response to your inquiry, we are pleased to provide you with a general report of the condition of the property described above. Since we are not professional conservators or restorers, we urge you to consult with a restorer or conservator of your choice who will be better able to provide a detailed, professional report. Prospective buyers should inspect each lot to satisfy themselves as to condition and must understand that any statement made by Sotheby's is merely a subjective qualified opinion.
NOTWITHSTANDING THIS REPORT OR ANY DISCUSSIONS CONCERNING CONDITION OF A LOT, ALL LOTS ARE OFFERED AND SOLD "AS IS" IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE CONDITIONS OF SALE PRINTED IN THE CATALOGUE.
Catalogue Note
Yves-Alain Bois has identified a need to "penetrate the ineffable silence" of Robert Ryman's paintings (Yves-Alain Bois, "Ryman's Tact," in Painting as Model, Cambridge, 1990, p. 215). For the uninitiated, Ryman's 'white paintings' may indeed appear inscrutable, intimidating and even elitist. Nothing could be further from the artist's intent. For his part, Ryman has cautioned against over-intellectualizing his work and becoming mired in the trappings of minimalist rhetoric and formal theory. To comprehend his work, all that is required is an appreciation for the beauty of small things.
As Ryman explains, "the use of white in my paintings came about when I realized that it doesn't interfere. It's a neutral color that allows for a clarification of nuances in painting. It makes painting visible that would not be so clear with the use of other colors" (Robert Storr, "Simple Gifts" in Robert Ryman, 1993, p. 16). The nuances that Ryman speaks of, those of hue, texture, pigment and luminosity, serve as the basis and foundation for his art. For Ryman, the support, like the other variables operative within a work, is an integral component of the composition, imparting its own inherent qualities to the overall reception of the painting. The degree to which the support permits the paint to embed itself in the surface, the way that its color subtly reveals itself through the successive layers of paint, all dictate the visual outcome. Ryman's is an art that rewards the patient eye.
In 1967, Ryman would deviate from the conventions of a traditional canvas or paper support for more unorthodox alternatives such as metal, Plexiglas and vinyl. In the present work, Ryman has assembled a group of 18 vinyl panels of equal size into a frieze-like format and through specific instructions concerning their spacing and orientation, structures the way that the viewer is meant to experience the work. For Ryman, the painting's surroundings are as much a part of the work as the material object itself. Like a miniaturist, he deftly inscribed his name into each panel, endowing each one with a sense of preciousness and objecthood, not perceptible when experienced from a distance. While Ryman discounts any connection to the aims of Malevich, his work nonetheless possesses the latter's icon-like presence. Seen collectively, Ryman's work functions as a complex system of combinations and permutations that celebrates the intrinsic particularities unique to its given situation. Each work represents but one possibility in an infinite repertoire of aesthetic outcomes. By manipulating one variable--be it texture, the color of the underlying support, or the viscosity of the paint—the equation, and ultimately the result, has changed. It has been said that Ryman's art is notoriously difficult to write about largely because our language lacks the adroitness and subtlety to communicate in Ryman's terms and articulate all that he proffers. According to Storr, "Ryman turned his sights on an achievable and elegant simplicity" and after nearly 50 years, we are still being transfixed by his work's quiet beauty. (p.39)