1 15 1 https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/5279a31059f098309260b6b7c0a3abf2.pdf 9906b2984aa4703932756844fdbe9007 PDF Text Text ������������������������������������������� https://omeka.wilkes.edu/omeka/files/original/3c2b0fcc64c7b077fee66dec1c18a346.pdf fa768150765986c517442739140b115f PDF Text Text * rt* i * r • ■ <ii * ri” f! W ■ f! jp if H N6537 L35A4 1997 i I �GARY LANG �P A INTI’ E.S. FARLEY LIBR; WILKES UNIVERS WILKES-BARRE, �GARY LANG PAINTINGS AND OBJECTS 1975-1997 Essays by Stanley I Grand Susan C. Larsen Appreciation by James Turrell E.S. FARLEY LIBRARY WILKES UNIVERSITY WILKES-BARRE, PA May II—August 10, 1997 Sordoni Art Gallery Wilkes University Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania �Text Copyright © 1997 Sordoni Art Gallery Illustrations Copyright © 1997 Gary Lang Photograph of Gary Lang, page 2, Copyright © 1995 Sebastiano Piras, New York ARY L A N G :s a treas V 1 religious conviction that s; with as much a detailed and layere, All rights reserved 2000 copies were printed by Llewellyn & McKane Inc., Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania Catalogue design by John Beck Color photographs by Ken Showell Cover photographs by Bill Orcutt and Ilonka Van Dcr Putten Set in the Adobe issue of Monotype Centaur, a typeface designed in 1915 by Bruce Rogers. ISBN 0-942945-10-7 Cover painting Mirroring Heart (Banding), 1993—97 acrylic on canvas I 13 X I J 3 inches I Mail on I rent singular and sweeping vision of wl nents in the world of visual thougl �A RY L A N G is a treasured friend. His personal history includes a 10 Pins, New York religious conviction that speaks to his chosen vision. He makes paintings with as much a detailed and layered history of where he has been as they are the singular and sweeping vision of where he has arrived. The works explore conti­ nents in the world of visual thought. They are to be entered. James Turrell J i X J 0 I L'. �WOVEN INFORMATION Stanley I Grand Wilkes University A MONG THE ARTISTS who received recognition in the 1980s, Gary Lang is a _/k special case. Never gaining superstar status during the years when fame came quickly and departed even more so, Lang has earned the respect of his peers and the esteem of a knowledgeable group of collectors and critics. This mid-career survey seeks to understand the nature of his accomplishment by establishing a chronology and contextualization of his works, by providing an interpretation of his philosophy and a decoding of his methodology, and by locating him within the context of the great modernist colorists from Cezanne to Josef Albers. Despite, or rather precisely because of Lang’s initially startling palette and the often radical appearance of his paintings, he is best understood as a classic painter, a true scion of the modernist tradition in which he has both respectfully dwelt and advanced. After receiving his M.F.A. from Yale in 1975, Lang moved to Barcelona, where he spent two years on a Fulbright scholarship. In the northeastern Spanish city so closely identified with Antoni Gaudi, Lang's work underwent a change. Perhaps not coincidentally, much of Lang’s work from this period combines humor (Gaudi s Casa Mild [1905—07] is the quintessential comic-book apartment house) and ascension (Gaudi s Sagrada Familia [begun 1884] comes to mind). Earlier, as a graduate student, he had made "paintings about frontality and ascension that looked like Don Judd sculptures done in a Day-Glo and glitter palette.”1 Now, fascinated with and inspired by the bright, animated, and colorful bits of paper that he encountered constandy and collected avidly, Lang began to move away from a formalist, fluorescing minimalism toward collage. The earliest work in this exhibition, Barcelona Painting [Figure I], is an icon in which paper scrap information has been translated into a painted collage. Employing a vertical format, the painting reads like a scroll or totem pole, with each course provid­ ing a different level of information. According to Lang, he “was accumulating and assembling cultural refuse and recycling it into energized totems, spiritual batteries, with intensely charged force-fields.’’ Reading the painting in an ascending manner, one sees, in the lower quarter, a noncanonical Mickey Mouse, with a nose reminiscent of WC. Fields's red proboscis, striding into the picture from the left along a lightning bolt. Not only does the �to *•«*- Multoond pbnets m sctoed ™Xto»«„C »a . b«oq«« c««to, emp^of so.pt dangles to a Aat ™to » „*optobk insoiption. Suoontog »d Itong Ae " £fc. „ to pactod panels: on Ae ,op seven puallel to on Ae left arcs of blue and whice orbiung a yellow mass; and on Ae ngbt, a plaid-Lke design of intersecting lines. The ensuing layer of information contains brightly colored intersectmg blades of yellow, blue, and red that reference a scrap of paper Lang brought back from a visit to Morocco. The abstracted Arabic script recalls its place of origin. To the left is an upside-down fragment of an old-fashioned, romantic postcard decorated with hearts and flowers that once proclaimed that separation tears the heart asunder. To the right is a miniature still-life arrangement consisting of a pair of cherries, a lemon, and a strawberry. Although these fruits evoke the slot machines wheels of chance, they were in fret appropriated from a tea bag marketed by a German firm under the Fixbute label. The next stratum juxtaposes a classical goddess with contemporary action superheroes. On the right, set in a yellow triangle, is a figure descended from the Venus de Milo. The adaptation, however, is clearly more commercial than aesthetic; we are looking at the logo for Venus noodles, beans, or some such product. Beneath, red letters appear to spell out Jazz. The triangle cuts into flat stripes of alternating blue and white. To the left, a daringly foreshortened Captain America, the Marvel Comics hero, swings away from a pair of nefarious villains, one of whom wears a patch over his right eye. The outcome of his escape remains uncertain: as the embodiment of America soars past a balcony, another figure, dressed in green, reaches up to grab him. Softening the upward and outward momentum created in the lower panels, an image of a brighdy colored tropical fish swims through progressively lightening layers of brown pigment. This image, derived from a postage stamp, is pasted atop a horizon­ tal cartoon panel, a pop descendent of the isocephalic classical frieze. Above and to the left, a white, biomorphrc form—an orchid or hand perhaps—in a field of pink is followed by the mottled trunk of an upside down birch tree that springs from loopy, almost Burchfield-like grass. In the upper tight corner, the Hindu god Siva (Shiva), in blue, wearing a red headdress and a flower lei, raises a flute to his ftps and serenades the o ject of his ardor, who holds a lei as well. Covering her legs and thighs, a long, blue to to. to sp toto pnktod tend S Ifc to C4k to Abog „ J„lr f„t. a lush hwn „here\ duJt md to 1P A" 5t"‘tng‘*' “‘fa °f ^P»»»l scene of tod. A. M.to0"I*'”''''” “k Wh°“ ’ ’“A ”f ™ ^sy. »»- culture, however, serve- as in ironic -miid. to the Les:of r. cal seriousness while nonetheless affirming commitment to the* seminal work. Allepry: Ttx Th:r. ef a Sv.!to Angus Fletcher no: simplest terms, allegory says one thing and means another.’ • Conti as a “mode: it is a fundamental process of encoding our speech."' F: Dantes Commeiba or John Bunvan’s 7lr Ptlgri-<■/ the ail;-. tv t. journey or quest in which the protagonist confronts choices, advetsi In Bamlcria Painting, allegory takes the- form of an encoded quest in v incarnated as an intoxicated mouse, travels between flames and void lightning bolt of inspiration in pursuit of a new vision. Art. the pat has the power to intoxicate, to induce ecstaev 'kslasis, to stand out < one into another realm. In this case the journey winds through the i culture and high art, nature and religion, love—whether sentiments tual—and conflict. The simultaneity of the cycle of creation—destn by the presence of Siva, who—along with Brahma the Creator' an Preserver)—forms the Hindu Trimurti. In this case, however. Siva ap Trimurti Destroyer but as a generative or procreative force w ith die the linga and Siva’s patronage of the arts, especially dancing. This p in the juxtaposition of the threatened Captain America with the th: boro Man." who aggressively intrudes into die top panel In Auinn and destruction weave together like an electrical diarge oscillating I and negative poles in a storage battery. Like a Shakespearean fool, i undermine the distinction between the serious and the banal: none expresses a gravity of intention that is found throughout Lang's wo Although Lang loved Barcelona, his work was as out of pla> been in New Haven. When he showed his paintings at the Institute can Studies "people didn’t know what to make of them . . . becausi Barcelona it was still burlap and bull’s blood and earth. Tapivs.Thi Lang’s return to America in 1976 initiated a decade-long p After settling in New York, where he painted until 1979. he move, be closer to his father who was very ill. In order to support htmseL time in an electric supply warehouse. At night, often too tired to p his pent-up energies into Ileapens Figures 2a & 2b , objects of wew rubber. These disturbing, spiky objects evoke a nether world-—exp including Nancy Grossman. Robert Mapplediorpe. and Nan Goli dildos, and blackjacks; a sadomasochistic world where the line her pleasure has blurred. Bur they also work as shamanistic fetishes lik power figures from Zaire, Concerning these works. Lang has note between their creation and their appearance; "Although they have look, the process of weaving and wrapping is calming and quiet I because that is what they are. I think of all my w ork as an invasive �PAINTINGS AND OBJECTS 1975-1997 ! the curvature of a celestial —designed no doubt by R. ricolored planets are scattered - script, dangles from a spiky rounding and framing the parallel lines; on the left, arcs t, a plaid-like design of ins brightly colored intersectf paper Lang brought back alls its place of origin. To the antic postcard decorated with tars the heart asunder. To the air of cherries, a lemon, and a wheels of chance, they were a firm under the Fixbute label, th contemporary’ action re descended from the Venus n-ial than aesthetic; we are h product Beneath, red tripes of alternating blue and tea, the Marvel Comics hero, n wears a patch over his right mbodiment of America les up to grab him. :ated in the lower panels, an •ogressively lightening layers mp, is pasted atop a horizonssical frieze. Above and to the as—in a field of pink is ee that springs from loopy; : Hindu god Siva (Shiva', in e to his lips and serenades the egs and thighs, a long, blue land. Above them is a duck and peacock (a this idyllic, pastoral scene of an male, whose ancestors ultures, this brassy, cacoteation, destruction, and the es from popular and mass culture, however, serves as an ironic antidote to the pretensions of high art and allegori­ cal seriousness while nonetheless affirming his commitment to these values. In his seminal work, Allegory: The Theory of a Symbolic Mode, Angus Fletcher noted that “In the simplest terms, allegory says one thing and means another.”2 Continuing, he writes that as a "mode: it is a fundamental process of encoding our speech.”3 Frequently, as in Dantes Ccromedu or John Bunyans The Pilgrim’s Progress, the allegory takes the form of a journey or quest in which the protagonist confronts choices, adversities, and hardships. In Binr/ww Painting, allegory takes the form of an encoded quest in which the artist, incarnated as an intoxicated mouse, travels between flames and void along the narrow lightning bolt of inspiration in pursuit of a new vision. Art, the painter seems to say, has the power to intoxicate, to induce ecstacy (ekstasis, to stand out of place), to move one into another realm. In this case the journey winds through the realms of popular culture and high art, nature and religion, love—whether sentimental, erotic, or spiri­ tual—and conflict. The simultaneity of the cycle of creation—destruction is suggested by the presence of Siva, who—along with Brahma (the Creator) and Vishnu (the Preserver)—forms the Hindu Trimurti. In this case, however, Siva appears not as the Trimurti Destroyer but as a generative or procreative force, with the flute recalling both the linga and Siva’s patronage of the arts, especially dancing. This polarity also appears in the juxtaposition of the threatened Captain America with the threatening "Marl­ boro Man,” who aggressively intrudes into the top panel. In Barcelona Painting creativity and destruction weave together like an electrical charge oscillating between the positive and negative poles in a storage battery. Like a Shakespearean fool, irony serves to undermine the distinction between the serious and the banal; nonetheless, the painting expresses a gravity of intention that is found throughout Lang's work. Although Lang loved Barcelona, his work was as out of place there as it had been in New Haven. When he showed his paintings at the Institute of North Ameri­ can Studies “people didn’t know what to make of them . .. because at that time in Barcelona it was still burlap and bull’s blood and earth. Tapies. That was it.” Lang's return to America in 1976 initiated a decade-long period of struggle. After settling in New York, where he painted until 1979, he moved to Los Angeles to be closer to his father who was very ill. In order to support himself Lang worked full time in an electric supply warehouse. At night, often too tired to paint, he channeled his pent-up energies into Weapons [Figures 2a & 2b], objects of woven aluminum and rubber. These disturbing, spiky objects evoke a nether world—explored by other artists including Nancy Grossman, Robert Mapplethorpe, and Nan Goldin—of leather, dildos, and blackjacks; a sadomasochistic world where the line between violence and pleasure has blurred. But they also work as shamanistic fetishes like the nail-studded power figures from Zaire. Concerning these works, Lang has noted the contradiction between their creation and their appearance: “Although they have a menacing, brutal look, rhe process of weaving and wrapping is calming and quiet. I called them Weapons because that is what they are. I think of all my work as an invasive vehicle chat attacks • 9 �, , i and shatters e i J>ne" Despite his critical success with the Weapons, Lang felt the „P w ^e^g, but you have to keep i »k«p fom pi«s x-rfra** , less sinister Quality as in Um [Figure 5a], These in turn led “bi““ to larger XiJlooking objects whTch I called Bullets’ [Figure 5b], Indeed, throughout the early 1980s, Lang worked in a variety of different modes simultaneous y as he alter­ nated between works that combmed images, such as the stap ed aggraphages Figure 61 and paintings such as Dried in Sound [Figure 3] or Isn’t It Wonderful [Figure 4], J’ In 1984 Lang’s father died, and his marriage began to unravel. He responded co t these events with a frantic creative outburst. Looking back he recalls that between 1985 and 1988 he created “more paintings than at any time in my life—I was paint­ ing all night and all day. The paintings were going in a variety of directions.” Returning to°New York in 1985, Lang supported himself as a maitre d’ at the Limelight, a popular Manhattan club. As keeper of the velvet rope, he became one of those judges, like Osiris, who determined who could gain entry to the modern mystery religion known as the downtown club scene. Nor was he able to escape its often self-destructive lifestyle. The violence done to individuals’ self-images (as well as the physical threats that came from the excluded—Lang recalls numerous occasions when he found himself on the wrong end of a handgun) is summarized in Night Life [Figure 8]. One of Lang’s most ambitious paintings to date, Night Life combines bursts of staccato pattern and amplified imagery to create a simultaneously joyful and menacing vision. Emerging from an active field of rectangles and squares is a sinister cyclopean figure with a “head” composed of one Rubik’s cube set into another. The “eye,” a red pixie derived from the White Rock logo, bends over a still pool and gazes at her reflection like Narcissus (whom Leon Battista Alberti, in Della Pittura [1435-1436], called the first artist). Surrounding the pixie are animation lines, a device that Keith Haring also adopted from the world of comics. Beneath the head, nine revolver barrels imperil the viewer. You stare, disbelievingly, at the stubby pistol fanning across your chest in the slo-mo, stop-action sequence of a nightmare before it comes to rest directly opposite your heart: Hells Kitchen Futurism. Although the revolver recalls images as diverse as Andy Warhols Triple Elvis, 1962, or the famous Army recruiting poster that proclaims Uncle Sam Wants You,” the source is actually a paper target, used by various police departments, that depicts a pistol-packing, Dick Tracy-type thug. By rendering e gunmans clothing in red, white, and blue, Lang seems to be implying a more ominous reading of the assailant as a renegade Captain America. In Night Life, we see the entire range of Lang’s subsequent formal vocabulary-: the IT (/T/o/s,anJor chan“ tF1§ure W “d dots sides of the Rubik’s cube-. I, ■■ > . ■ experimentsot Josef Albers O >m- . mind- . Despite the raw voltage UF i’k■, dem, J from the A— rary civilization. Lang began to fed c.v the tnie, expressive ’ pvwet .f th; p.cn coming from the grounds. In large parr this wa> a eon .equni:...< awareness that ‘‘the emphasis in my process was not on rendering the image, but < energizing the surface." Phis led to .tn alternate, more direct “method for ord r cliaos,” one in which “the colots themselves b came the subject matter." Frame the need to think about pictorial subject man; t and returning to his reductive, malist roots, he found that by focusing exclusively on painting lines of color, ht infuse his paintings with "more energy, more life, and mote content because. it eliminate imager); the surface itself must speak for you." Foo Lion [Figure 9] is a key work in Lang's transition from paintings that incorporated imagery to those that deal primarily with “energizing surfaces ’ B allowing the object, that is the lion, to act as the image. Lang was able to conct on the surface, which he activated with a spiky aura and a painted skin. In retrc realizes that "it wasn’t the form 1 was seeking out. but rather a surface to paint, thus synthesized and summarized several strands of development explored prei in painted objects such as ( hi i Figure 5a j. the hand-held Weapon. Figures 2a ai and paintings such as A'gfr Life! Figure 8].Thereafter, having abandoned overt: matter and committed himself to the painting of lines, Lang found his artistic No longer "concerned with making a painting,” Lang rediscovered the "pure F of direct painting” in the process of “weaving colors." Begun in 1987, the "plaid paintings" were an early manifestation of thi direction. (Their antecedents, as we Iiave seen, go back as early as fiinzlcm Patni Although misinterpreted initially '"(-olleagues thought I was making crosses c paintings, but I was never interested in, or excited by. the grid";, Lang viewed I metaphorically as "an accumulation ot intersections or crossroads." Describins creation of Plant Printing' Figure 12!. Lang said "Using a very thin paint. I’d m; one brushstroke from the top to the bottom of the rectangular canvas. Then I the canvas ninety degrees and paint another line from top to bottom. contmui tills way until the canvas was finished." In these works, it "wasn’t what I was p; even what the painting looked like, but rather the way I painted.’ Subsequently, Lang ceased painting the lines freehand and employed t; make his lines. Tape, which he had used previously to construct objects such a or Um, now was used to delineate hard-edge lines of color in works such as A [Figure 17 . The resulting paintings tended to be “aggressive because an abru] edge is created when vou pull the tape oft?' Unlike the "tender" gesture of “d dragging a bead of paint down a canvas," tape produces a “different sensibiilt) thing about it—the crisp hard edge, the sound of the tape ripping off—is sh. and angular. It’s like steel." But the tape also allowed for a thicker, denser appl �PAINTINGS AND OBJECTS 1975-1997 .ang felt the i have to keep >ed objects larger ghout the is he alter­ nes [Figure re 4]. responded to between I was paintis.” Returning jght, a hose judges, religion ;lf-destructive cal threats found re 8]. :s bursts of ad menacing cyclopean “eve,” a red at her 15-1436], hat Keith 'olver barrels toss your o rest direcdy s images as poster that ;ed by various Sy rendering i more cabulary: the s (Praym Isn’t If Uects, is interesting, m fa along the sides of the Rubiks cubes. If one disregards Lang’s neo-pointillist color sprinkles, the experiments of Josef Albers come to mind unbidden. Despite the raw voltage of the images derived from the detritus of contempo­ rary civilization, Lang began to feel that the true, expressive “power of the painting was coming from the grounds. In large part this was a consequence of a growing selfawareness that “the emphasis in my process was not on rendering the image, but on energizing the surface." This led to an alternate, more direct "method for ordering the chaos,” one in which “the colors themselves became the subject matter.” Transcending the need to think about pictorial subject matter and returning to his reductive, mini­ malist roots, he found that by focusing exclusively on painting lines of color, he could infuse his paintings with “more energy, more life, and more content because, if you eliminate imagery, the surface itself must speak for you.” Foo Lion [Figure 9] is a key work in Langs transition from paintings that incorporated imagery to those that deal primarily with “energizing surfaces.” By allowing the object, that is the lion, to act as the image, Lang was able to concentrate on the surface, which he activated with a spiky aura and a painted skin. In retrospect he realizes that “it wasn’t the form I was seeking out, but rather a surface to paint.” Feo Lion thus synthesized and summarized several strands of development explored previously in painted objects such as Um [Figure 5a], the hand-held Weapons [Figures 2a and 2b], and paintings such as Night Life [Figure 8]. Thereafter, having abandoned overt subject matter and committed himself to the painting of lines, Lang found his artistic voice. No longer “concerned with making a painting,” Lang rediscovered the “pure pleasure of direct painting” in the process of “weaving colors.” Begun in 1987, the "plaid paintings” were an early manifestation of this new direction. (Their antecedents, as we have seen, go back as early as Barcelona Fainting, j Although misinterpreted initially (“Colleagues thought I was making crosses or grid paintings, but I was never interested in, or excited by, the grid”), Lang viewed them metaphorically as “an accumulation of intersections or crossroads.” Describing the creation of Plaid Painting [Figure 12], Lang said “Using a very thin paint, I'd make just one brushstroke from the top to the bottom of the rectangular canvas. Then I'd rotate the canvas ninety' degrees and paint another line from top to bottom, continuing in this way' until the canvas was finished.” In these works, it wasnt what I was painting or even what the painting looked like, but rather the way I painted. Subsequently, Lang ceased painting the lines freehand and employed tape to make his lines. Tape, which he had used previously' to construct objects such as Weapon or Um, now was used to delineate hard-edge lines of color in works such as RnthsTmths [Figure 17]. The resulting paintings tended to be “aggressive because an abrupt hard edge is created when you pull the tape off’ Unlike the tender gesture of delicately dragging a bead of paint down a canvas," tape produces a “different sensibility. Every­ thing about it—the crisp hard edge, the sound of the tape ripping off—is sharp, curt, and angular. It’s like steel." But the tape also allowed for a thicker, denser application of • II �J £ L 12 . GARY LANG , ..Ynll trowel in pigment in a way that you couldn’t paint it on; if you tned to C° tit In that thickly, it would just fall down." (Langs fascination with tape came to fiiUfruition kiThe Hague project, where he constructed the image entirely of woven colored tape?^d ±e „pure pIeasure„ of coincided with several other changes in his life. After completing Nightlife. he quit the dub scene. In 1990, he met Ruth Pastine, a painter, whom he subsequently marned. With this positive influence in his life, calmness displaced the frantic, frenetic energy that had informed his work. He has stated, "When I met Ruth something happened: the work began to change—to become more open, adventurous, and intimate.” At about this same time he began painting mirrors and circles, two avenues of discovery that he has continued to pursue throughout the 1990s. The first Mirror had a most unlikely genesis. Lang recalls "taking a shower and looking into a convex mirror that I kept in the stall. Up close I could see every pore tn my face, but when I held the mirror at a distance, I saw a luminous, 3-D square.” The quality and depth of the light reminded him of a cloudburst experienced in the Caribbean: “the way rain just sort of floats through the air, instead of falling straight down and pounding off the pavement as it does in the city. The Mirrors, which are soft and ethereal, are like clouds of droplets blowing in the breeze and reflecting the entire color spectrum.”This sense of sparkling, watery prisms drifting across a field describes the effect of the Mirrors [Figures 16 and 20], where colors shift and metamorphose, as they dance across the surface of the painting, first embracing then abandoning, the radiant, contradictory light. By blurring distinctions between viewer, object, and artist, the mirror serves as a vehicle for meditation or self-discover}': “I think of the mirror as I’m looking at you and I’m seeing myself since so much of what we see is a projection of ourselves." This concept of the mirror as pathway to knowledge has a long pedigree in Western art and mythology. Like the apple in the Garden of Eden, it can represent forbidden knowl­ edge: Ovid (Metamorphoses 3:347—349) recounts how the blind seerTiresias warned Liriope that her son Narcissus would live to a ripe old age only if he never came to know himself Unfortunately, Narcissus gazed upon his own reflection in the mirror surface of a still pool and thus sealed his fate. In classical times, the mirror was an attribute of Venus. In Renaissance and Baroque art, the mirror was often associated ™“ J?™™ of vanitF' A" outstanding example is Velazquez’s Ifrim and Cupid (1648-1651, the Rokeby Venus” now in the National Gallery, London/ tn which a sensual, recumbent nude stares into a mirror held by a putto.The presence of a mirror HOldM t0 yoiS™ " SeVCral aUe8°ricaI fiSures deluding Prudence, Truth, and Time. Pa,mtmg\th0Se Kmnders that death is ever stalking, a beautiful conceit contmues m °f “ old exam L°f ^Tookers various Mtrrors. for P Uy, and without exhausting the topic, the Speculum sine macula, the flawless mirror, which Solomon had. ■ : . inhi I .: ■ . one of die signifiers of Marx ’> vituv and ; imn. The second avenue et Ji ci I;.. ■ o ; r? u-:>•'i iiyr.-.l richly encoded as the Mtm 't. 1 or Ling, it provides j me-ins >f r.ir.c random potential into a profoundly simple geometric f rm./. 1 ■: th; years, Lang has confined himself to painting two geometric shapes: sqm again of Albers] and circle i V > in reminds o> tint i. hotto knew tha a, handdrawn circle was both “enough and to. > much" of a gift I, >r Pope F’ circle, moreover, is simultaneously ' 1 ' self-reft rential recalling Laie’s yt houseman in Los Angeles, his wrapped works, and his multitude of pan (2j reflective of certain contempor.ny modes , the Lugrf paintings of Jas] Kenneth Noland for example ; and o evocative of the art-lustoric.il tr: other works, ir has an obvious relationship with Giovanni di Paolo's Th Expulsion of Adam and Eve from Paradise. 1445, tn the Metre tpolitan Musri Indeed the tondo, as the Italians call the circular format, has a di associations that can only be hinted ar in a short essay. Concentnc nngs an earlier model of the heavens, as charted bv th'’ astronomer Ptolemy,. of hell, as followed by I >ante and his guide Virgil. Liter, in the Renavsa and the sphere (a circle in three-dimensions) were considered perfect sh ing Marsilio Ficino’s Neo-Platonic conception of the universe as an hie consisting of the Cosmic Mmd (mens mundana:, Cosmic Soul 'anima m (spiritus mundanus), and matter 'malenaj arrayed in descending concentric ing to Erwin Panofsky “An uninterrupted current of supernatural enerj above to below ;uid reverts from below to above, thus forming a rinuitu quote Ficino’s favourite expression"’ 1 bis same movement of energy Gary Lang tondo.’f he circle is also an ancient symbol of the cycles, wh seasons, or fate. In Baroque allegorical representations, Human Life on Fortuna’s Wheel, reminding all that periods of ascension are soon those of decline. The circle symbolizing change is key to understanding Lang's t< format is "a metaphor for what I’ve learned from nature I love weather ability and changing nature, which is as close to the truth as I've ever g that “I have most of the images and films of tornados." he adds “I find as well as terrifying. Moving in .1 line, ascending and descending centni tornado changes everything in its path. It's an important metaphor. In little imagination to view the conical form of the brightly painted, aqu Bullet Figure 5b;, with its spiraling nngs, as an inverted tornado. From Painting and the Heap tr, this image of the destroyer as creator has been ; Lang’s artistic vocabulary. But the tondi, recalling rainbows, also carry . of benevolence Genests 9:I2—16. The Hebrew qeset, which is used m C mean (rain)bow, appears elsewhere in the Bible as the common word f< �PAINTINGS AND OBJECTS 1975-1997 • i: if you tried to h tape came to rely of woven ed with several ne. In 1990, he positive had informed vork began to his same time has continued a shower and e ever}' pore in ) square.” The d in the Hing straight which are soft ting the entire . field describes amorphose, as lolling, the irror serves as a iking at you irseIves."This Western art and iden knowlas warned ■er came to n the mirror or was an i associated us and Cupid a) in which a ce of a mirror h, and Time, ig, a beautiful Tone. This s Mirren, for a, the flawless mirror, which Solomon had evoked in his praise of wisdom (Wisdilorn 7:26), became one of the significrs of Mary's virginity and purity. The second avenue of discovery, the concentric circle [Figures 13 and 23], is as richly encoded as the Mirrors. For Lang, it provides a means of “weaving the maximum random potential into a profoundly simple geometric format” (For the past several years, Lang has confined himself to painting two geometric shapes: squares [one thinks again of Albers] and circles [Vasari reminds us that Giotto knew that a perfect, handdrawn circle was both “enough and too much” of a gift for Pope Benedict].)5 The circle, moreover, is simultaneously (I) self-referential (recalling Lang’s years as a ware­ houseman in Los Angeles, his wrapped works, and his multitude of painted objects); (2) reflective of certain contemporary modes (the Target paintings of Jasper Johns or Kenneth Noland for example); and (3) evocative of the art-historical tradition (among other works, it has an obvious relationship with Giovanni di Paolos The Creation andThe Expulsion ofAdam and Evefrom Paradise, c. 1445, in the Metropolitan Museum of Art). Indeed the tondo, as the Italians call the circular format, has a deep pool of associations that can only be hinted at in a short essay. Concentric rings represent both an earlier model of the heavens, as charted by the astronomer Ptolemy, and a road map of hell, as followed by Dante and his guide Virgil. Later, in the Renaissance, the circle and the sphere (a circle in three-dimensions) were considered perfect shapes, symboliz­ ing Marsilio Ficino’s Neo-Platonic conception of the universe as an hierarchical orb consisting of the Cosmic Mind (mens mundana), Cosmic Soul (anima mundana), spirit (spiritus mundanus), and matter (materia') arrayed in descending concentric levels. Accord­ ing to Erwin Panofsky “An uninterrupted current of supernatural energy flows from above to below and reverts from below to above, thus forming a circuitus spiritualis, to quote Ficino’s favourite expression.’’6 This same movement of energy occurs in a Gary’ Lang tondo. The circle is also an ancient symbol of the cycles, whether of life, the seasons, or fate. In Baroque allegorical representations, Human Life always stands on Fortuna’s Wheel, reminding all that periods of ascension are soon followed by those of decline. The circle symbolizing change is key to understanding Lang’s tondi because the format is “a metaphor for what I've learned from nature. I love weather, its unpredict­ ability and changing nature, which is as close to the truth as I’ve ever gotten. Noting that “I have most of the images and films of tornados,” he adds I find them beautiful as well as terrifying. Moving in a line, ascending and descending centrifugally, the tornado changes everything in its path. It’s an important metaphor. Indeed, it takes little imagination to view the conical form of the brightly painted, aqua and cense Bullet [Figure 5b], with its spiraling rings, as an inverted tornado. From the Barcelona Painting and the Weapons, this image of the destroyer as creator has been a constant in Lang's artistic vocabulary. But the tondi, recalling rainbows, also carry' a mixed promise of benevolence ^Genesis 9:12—16. The Hebrew tjeset, which is used in Genesis 9:13 to mean (rain)bow, appears elsewhere in the Bible as the common word for hnv, the 13 �I lang f. 14 B ^Z?taSllJming-b»k«™»«"f token. L^stoon quoted f • GARY earlier, that all his work is a weapon, seems particularly apt in this context.) Since 1990 when Lang painted the first of his concentric Circles on the wooden end-piece of an “old discarded wire-cable” spool he has developed a complex mathematical system for ordering and selecting his palette. In the Circles [Figures 13 and 23] he weaves together a fixed palette and a mutatmg palette according to a working drawing or "navigational chart.” After completing his navigational chart, which is a series of ratios between the fixed and mutating palettes, Lang works quickly and intuitively to select his fixed palette from hundreds of containers of mixed colors. He then picks his single mutating color. * Having chosen the initial colors of the fixed “random” palette, Lang starts a tondo at the outer edge by painting a concentric circle with the first color selected. (Previously, Lang had underpainted the canvas with large alternating rings.) Next he uses the second color and continues painting concentric circles until all the colors have been used. Then he paints a circle in his mutating color before selecting the next group of colors in his fixed palette (he never repeats a color). Once he has finished painting the second group of fixed colors, he alters the mutating color by mixing in an addi­ tional color or colors. Every' time his working drawing calls for a concentric circle in a mutating color, he changes the hue by adding or subtracting colors. Thus if the mutating color starts out as an orange or pink, it might move first toward black and then toward white or red or blue until he decides to turn it in another direction. This process continues until the final circle, in the center of the tondo, has been painted. Staring at the Grand Circle [Figure 23], one feels almost mesmerized (recall that Dr. Mesmer used a small disk to hypnotize his patients). The push-and-pull movement caused by the color shifts in this overwhelming painting—its diameter is more than twice the height of the average individual—virtually sucks you in like a vortex or whirlpool: “it defies you, dresses you down to your essentia] self, and refigures you. Its easy to get lost in this pictorial space, and some individuals become almost nauseous while looking at the painting. The goal is to reorient oneself via disorientation." One only feels this onentation-disonentation in the presence of the painting; reproductions never convey the impact of Langs paintings: “When people say they don’t get anything om my shdes, I understand; it’s not the slides, it’s the paint, the surface, that records ” the human touch. The power of a painting is unleashed when you're in its presence.” ThnX^' thLaraS7 t.°Uch’IS what Lang’s paintings: the “touch is alive.” youon a nnm 1 L i» J ?3T? 1Sr?e SurfaCe “ what’S C° ,wr p'c“p'"1 appm"s' to hi. numeric code, Ung oncentnc circle intuitively, responding both to the interaction of the colors and t a their u, • - J.... • fled improvisation," which Lang compares to jazz. t» a margntvanon ties of intuition and ch in:. experiences. Colors are the means Lw a Web Lang investigates the unfavm verbal, Lang, a self-descnbed "color addict d that “I’m with colors because I feel connected to them." Nonetheless while at made a special point of avoiding L-’t .'Il er' "a real color scientist theories: “I did not read that b. kA f CeLr bt-tausc: 1 iii tualize my knowledge about colors." Still, had Lang read Albers's b< found ample support for hr own experiments Lang u d. ung mtum was doing scientifically, and the results are the same. as Lang his obliquely: "In the end. Albers used color to get you to float and vib walking a line between spirit and science, and m this w,w we are LnJosef /Mbers had argued that “preferences and dislikes—as it color—usually result from prejudices, from lack of experience and I than accepting a limited palette, Albers advocated a bn >ad embracer matic scale: “ I herefore, w. try to recognize our preferences and < -tn colors dominate in our work; what colors, on the other hand. are re of no appeal. Usually a special effort in using disliked colors ends v love with them.'"* Moreover, a point that refers specifically to Lang's Albers had recognized that "independent of hatmony rules, any Co with any other color, presupposing that their quantities an appropr "People would say these colors don’t go together, hut in Life everyth together.” .The appropriate quantities are determined by two factor how often, distinguish 2 kinds of quantity: I of size—extension m recurrence—extension in number.” Like l_any, Albert recognized preference for harmony, we accept dissonance to be as desirable as i Besides a balance through color harmonv. which is comparable to s equilibrium possible between color tensions, related to a more dym Albers also observed dial painting lines was an excellent way to ere. color exists for color's sake .. . and not merely as accompaniment t> By combining colors exclusively in stripes—that is, in stretched, na: of the same length, varying only in width, and touching each other are led co overlook their rather equal shapes and to consider them ■, Lang’s aim. however, is not to investigate color combinations. Rath "essential information by means of an emotional cede. Ultimately, Lang believes that his art is "a spiritual conduit guishes between rebgion and spirit: "At one time, spirit and relit;:. ■: spint and religion are not the same anymore. There is a spirit, a Irvi the wellspring source of my work.' He defines this living spirit a> �PAINTINGS AND OBJECTS 1975-1997 i of the erful instrun, quoted O on the wooden nplex mathres 13 and 23] vorking which is a klv and d colors. He ing starts a r selected. is.) Next he he colors have he next group led painting in an additric circle in a > if the 1 black and lection. This m painted, d (recall that lull movement more than □rtex or lures you. It’s st nauseous ation." One reproductions t get anything that records ; presence." h is alive." at's talking to al apparatus. ide. Lang he interaction of the colors and to their modification by the underpainting. The result of this "codi­ fied improvisation,” which Lang compares co jazz, is a maximization of the potentiali­ ties of intuition and chance, with the goal of creating new color configurations and experiences. Colors are the means by which Lang investigates the unknown. Although highly verbal, Lang, a self-described "color addict,” has observed that "I’m more confident with colors because I feel connected to them.” Nonetheless while at Yale, Lang had made a special point of avoiding Josef Albers (“a real color scientist") and his color theories: “I did not read that book [Interaction oj Color] because I didn't want to intellec tualize my knowledge about colors.” Still, had Lang read Albers's book, he would have found ample support for his own experiments. Ling is doing intuitively what Albers was doing scientifically, and the results are the same, as Lang has acknowledged obliquely: "In the end, Albers used color to get you to float and vibrate. ...Ik- was walking a line between spirit and science, and in this way we arc linked." Josef Albers had argued that "preferences and dislikes—as in Ide so with color—usually result from prejudices, from lack of experience and insight " Rather than accepting a limited palette, Albers advocated a broad embracenient of the chro­ matic scale: “Therefore, we try to recognize our preferences and our aversions—what colors dominate in our work; what colors, on the other hand, are rejected, disliked, or of no appeal. Usually a special effort in using disliked colors ends with our falling m love with them.”'' Moreover, a point that refers specifically to Lang’s wav of working. Albers had recognized that "independent of harmony rules, .any color 'g<x .' or 'works' with any other color, presupposing that their quantities are appropriate." ' Lang: “People would say these colors don’t go together, but in life everything is thrown together.")The appropriate quantities are determined by two factors: "how mi:, h and how often, distinguish 2 kinds of quantity: I of size—extension m area—and I of recurrence—extension in number.”"’ Like Lang, Albers recognized that "By giving up preference for harmony, we accept dissonance to be as desirable as consonance.... Besides a balance through color harmony, which is comparable to symmetry, there is equilibrium possible between color tensions, related to a more dynamic asymmetry. Albers also observed that painting lines was an excellent way to create works in which color exists for colors sake ... and not merely as accompaniment to form, to shape.... By' combining colors exclusively in stripes—that is, in stretched, narrow rectangles, all of die same length, varying only' in width, and touching each other in full length—we are led to overlook their rather equal shapes and to consider them almost shapeless. Ling’s aim, however, is not to investigate color combinations. Rather it is to transmit "essential information by means of an emotional code.’ Ultimately. Lang believes that lais arr is "a spiritual conduit," but he distin­ guishes between religion and spirit: "At one time, spirit and religion were unified: but spirit and religion are not the same anymore. There is a spirit, a living spirit, and that’s ' wellspring " r source of my work. He defines this living spirit as the essential feeling the ■ 15 �s h 16 C. miTone eke’s. Ultimately, you’re trying to connect your feeling for with others’." ^'feeling and enthusiasm for life are apparent in his sense of generosity Maybe d>7£ential spirit of the work is abundance." Indeed one of the aphonsms that Lang likes to repeat is "All that is not given is lost." the final likes to In repeat is analysis, what Lang gives the viewer is a paradigm for organizing chaos for infusing meaning into randomness. Indeed, it is this drive that separates the twice-wise hominid (homo sapiens sapiens} from other species. That is what we do. Like the scientist (Lang’s interwoven colors and wrapped objects, ascending in a spiral motion, do not seem altogether foreign from the Watson-Crick model of DNA), priest, writer, philosopher, administrator, or any other individual, Lang seeks to make sense out of and understand the series of random acts against which we live our brief lives. “What am I really doing in these paintings? It occurred to me while working in my studio that I could ‘start somewhere and go nowhere.’ I was struck by this and immediately wrote it down. In the same moment, I realized that the truth is you ‘start nowhere and go somewhere.'Where does anything begin? It begins where it begins. Change is the constant. There is nothing to hold on to. If you can embrace this, you can live. That is the essence of my work.” NOTES 1. All quotations are from a conversation with the author on December 18,1996. 2. Angus Fletcher, Allegory: The Theory of a Symbolic Mode (Ithaca: Cornell Paperbacks, 1970): 2. 3. Ibid., p. 3. 4. The piece measured 134 X 134 inches and was created directly on the wall. 5. Giorgio Vasari, Lives of the Artists, ed. and trans by E. L. Seely (New York: Noonday Press, 1957): 8. 6. Erwin Panofsky, Studies in Iconology: Humanistic Themes in the Art of the Renaissance (New York: Harper & Row, Icon Editions, 1972): 132. 7. Josef Albers, Interaction of Color, paperbound ed. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1971): 48. 8. Ibid., p. 17. 9. Ibid., p. 44. 10. Ibid., p. 43. 11. Ibid., p. 42. 12. Ibid., pp. 47-49. TRACKING THE HEART'S OWN Susan C. Larsen Chief Curator, Farnsworth Art Museum, Rockland. M: <\NE OF THE RARE PLEASURES of a life lived in the a: following the progress of a major painter from early stages of development to a state of completeness and fulfil the artistic evolution of Gary Lang, from 1975 to today, 1 of the dynamics of visual consciousness, expressed and hv< ing paintings. The earliest works in this exhibition were, b; exposure to Lang’s odd and ferocious energy which seern© one with the hot yet coolly urbane, exultant yet desperate i transitional era of the late 1970s and early 1980s. The work already' had an uncanny' syntax, moving plane, changing its pictorial Language in some visually mul then devoted to jagged, multicolored planes of painted an elements of modernist abstraction while responding to th show of torn and fragmented ads and messages with their hybrids of high and low culture. The work embodied and breakdown of a contemporary world at once familiar, ten outset, Lang showed no interest in pleasant "arrangement “texts” bur was driven to create a visual equivalent of late ness stalking the scary’ edges of urban life. By the early 1980s, Lang already had a following; and collectors who were bold enough to handle the raucc paintings and sculptures brought into otherwise elegantly pop and smartly conceptual art. His work was more acce exposure to European art, to the visually shattered works Dadaists, like Schwitters and utopian Constructivists like provocative collisions of style and content. Electric in their color, spilling over their edges wit disquieting and even troubling presence wherever they we sculpture played a very public role in an optimistic momt culture which briefly' challenged New York for artistic pre generation of of young artists finally able to debunk old ster �g for life. > transcend 1 your spirit ■itlr others'.” : "Maybe that Lang janizing >arates the do. Like spiral >NA), s to make our brief orking in is and you ‘start begins, this, you TRACKING THE HEART’S OWN INTUITION Susan C. Larsen Chief Curator, Farnsworth Art Museum, Rockland, Maine /-XNIi of THE RARE PLEASURES of a life lived in the artistic community is that of X_z following the progress of a major painter from early promise through l.e, m.uin ■ stages of development to a state of completeness and fulfillment. Viewed in retn. ,p . t. the artistic evolution of Gary Lang, from 1975 to today, has been a brave inv.r.tigatic>n of the dynamics of visual consciousness, expressed and. lived through hr. very deni and ing paintings.The earliest works in this exhibition were, by some coincident >. my first exposure to Lang’s odd and ferocious energy which seemed so extravagant and ■ at one with the hot yet coolly urbane, exultant yet desperate mood ol I •>:. An ge I . m th. transitional era of the late 1970s and early 1980s. The work already had an uncanny' syntax, moving and shifting from pl in ■ t- plane, changing its pictorial language in some visually multiculnir.il dan ■ . Lane v..< ■ then devoted to jagged, multicolored planes of painted and pasted color. I !>■ nv.'di <1 elements of modernist abstraction while responding to the dizzying Lo ■ An. !<■ show of torn and fragmented ads and messages with their undomesticated < ,w:i hybrids of high and low culture. The work embodied arid described a virtu >1 n. ” u ■ breakdown of a contemporary world at once familiar, terrifying, and strange. At thoutset, Lang showed no interest in pleasant "arrangements" or even in fashionable "texts” but was driven to create a visual equivalent of lare twentieth-centurv ■ a, i i. ness stalking the scary edges of urban life. By the early 1980s, Lang already had a following among Los Angel o enttes and collectors who were bold enough to handle the raucous, impolite energy hi paintings and sculptures brought into otherwise elegantly cool collections of I. A. nr. > pop and smartly conceptual art. His work was more accessible to those with a wide exposure to European art, to the visually’ shattered works of early twentieth-century Dadaists, like Schwitters and utopian Constructivists like Rodchenko, who cultivau 1 provocative collisions of style and content. Electric in their color, spilling over their edges with incident, introducing a disquieting and even troubling presence wherever drey went, Lings painting , and sculpture played a very public role in an optimistic moment in California postmodern culture which briefly challenged New York for artistic preeminence. He was part of a generation of young artists finally able to debunk old stereotypes of cultural regional- �flf, IS * G A , K U S°» 1970 »•■”" “ *• W1"“7 S“io P“F“ " N™ Y"k '," H“X^W« » te 1971 » tf» Calfe™ tatae of Arts V.to who he eomptedhn B.A..in 1973 tn the company of Mow sXts Ross Bleckner, Eric Fischl, and David Salle. Many of Langs peers from Cal Arts pursued careers in New York immediately and with great success and cntical acclaim. They were fueled by the conceptual approach to artistic practice taught by John Baldessari and others on the innovative and effective Cal Arts faculty. In a characteristically introspective spirit, Lang opted to go to Yale University in 1973, where he finished an M.EA. in 1975. It would be difficult to find a more vivid contrast of pedagogy and philosophy than these two programs, Cal Arts and Yale. Hng was aware of but determined to avoid entanglement in the elegant and systematic theories of color in painting introduced by Josef Albers during the 1950s and earned on through several subsequent generations of Yale faculty and students. He was also unconvinced by the linguistically and sociologically driven theoretical issues then featured throughout Yale’s humanities curriculum, ideas that soon found adherents in many universities in America. A Fulbright Grant allowed Lang to spend more than a year in Spain where he preferred Barcelona with its familiar sunny climate, wonderful yet highly focused museums, and the wildly colorful architecture of Antonio Gaudi. There is scant evidence of the formal and elegant character of historical Spain in Lang’s 1975 Barcelona Painting [Figure I], featuring a smiling Mickey Mouse surveying a mountainous landscape while other compartments of this jarring, ungraceful, thickly-painted work speak volumes about Lang’s delight in her beaches, marinas, and warm sun. Living in the present moment, unrepentandy independent of art-historical heroes, rejecting clever ironies, Lang had already begun to find his starting point as an artist. Returning to Los Angeles, Lang carried with him both a new sophistication and a greater willingness to look and listen to the L.A. urban environment, which spoke m many dialects and reflected a wide range of moods. Living in a loft in a downtotvn industrial warehouse, Lang created an odd paradise filled with tropical p ants, exotic birds, a favorite dog, postcards and letters providing reminiscences of his seen nr ,tWas a g^tle place with a warmth and easy graciousness not often seen or cultivated in artists’ working environments. streets t^Ga™^ d°main just “ arm’s Iength from che A305 of the sculpt he trOubUng but deeply memorable group of painted or multiple wooden teTrh30^ ' Handmadc- featuring metal spikes -Pie !i^e^nned in tb5 of bullets [Figure 5b] or asmgs, they expressed almost perfectly the tension. genuine physical danger, and undeniable creativity of Lus Angei e in the was well known that local gangs often created crude .capons and used ■: other—and occasionally on unrelated p; ;-:rs<_v. Few people frequenting the poke and fas'uonable gallery acene d among the young boomer generation of Los .Angeles had ever contempt or even touching, such objects. Lang’s weapons had an appealing sensual degree of tactility, and innovative colors and patterns. Some were so iarg< dominated an entire gallery with their kaleidoscopic imager.' and invask Wild patterns suggesting moments of spiritual and physical intoxication of Lang’s sculpture and many of his paintings. Mary viewers found then but disturbing. One remembers hearing whispered comments, uncomfcr personal experiences of urban violence recounted with false bravado, ant universal speculation about the intent of the artist. How could one put together the serious, good-humored persona artist with his aggressive painted sculpture that alternatively seduced anc audience? In retrospect, Lang’s “weapons" of the 1980s seem touching?, and evocative of a time merely predicting the eventual course of human most elemental way. In truth, Lang was perhaps more concerned and co many in his artistic audience by the life he witnessed daily on the streets Longing for harmonv and a state of general and personal well-being, he repose in the neo-pastoral environment of his studio. In his “weapons." and abstracted a crude sculptural medium ot human exchange.Talismanic ar: they have a vividness and theatricality that would linger productively in Gary Lang both sensed the short-lived nature of the urban artist going on in I_A. and knew that his own evolution required him to mov City, which he did in 1985. Paintings such as Isn't It Wonderful "Figure 4 secretly fond he was of the then old-fashioned language of modernist al redolent of the distinctly American palette of Morgan Russell, Stuart E Henry Bruce. Jazzv shifts from strict flat mangles of primary color to a rive passages of grass green evidence a seriously playful spirit that has cl I ang’s work from the outset. Perhaps no one enjoys breaking rules moi who has effectively internalized them. The wild complexity of Lang's delirious syntax finds its apothe; [Figure 8], a major painting of 1987. In it, Lang provides a vast panor; through New York’s extravagant zones ot entertainment, pleasure, and were spinning down toward entropy in that memorable year of the stoc debacle. Because he was working part-time in a prominent nightclub. L row seat at Manhattan's club scene, which he saw as increasingly thread decadent, hi Ag.fr Eiti. a row of fists laid cross-wise at the work's center directly at the viewer. A not of pattern makes the work spin oft at odd segments it into distinctly colored and configured zones. At its heart, i �II PAINTINGS AND OBJECTS 1975-1997 i traveling tribe who worked g active in Europe, where the >us and rewarding. oastal lite as he took oft from studio Program in New York ad the California Institute of in the company of fellow ay of Lane’s peers from Cal great success and critical artistic practice taught by : Cal Arts faculty’. ted to go to Yale University in difficult to find a more vivid grams, Cal Arts and Yale. t in the elegant and systematic luring the 1950s and carried • and students. He was also n theoretical issues then hat soon found adherents in ran a year in Spain where he ierful yet highly focused a Gaudi. There is scant I Spain in Lang’s 1975 Barcelona veying a mountainous ■aceful, thickly-painted work las, and warm sun. Living in istoncal heroes, rejecting clever t as an artist. i both a new sophistication rban environment, which ods. Living in a loft in a iradise filled with tropical iroviding reminiscences of his easy' graciousness nor often length from the chaos of the y memorable group of painted ndmade, featuring metal spikes ge of bullets [Figure 5b] >st perfectly the tension, 19 ■■ genuine physical danger, and undeniable creativity of Los Angeles in the early 1980s. It was well knowai that local gangs often created crude weapons and used them on each other—and occasionally on unrelated passers-by. Few people frequenting the polite and fashionable gallery scene then flourishing among the young boomer generation of Los Angeles had ever contemplated owning, or even touching, such objects. Lang’s weapons had an appealing sensuality, a high degree of tactility, and innovative colors and patterns. Some were so large that they dominated an entire gallery with their kaleidoscopic imagery and invasive physicality. Wild patterns suggesting moments of spiritual and physical intoxication covered some of Lang's sculpture and many of his paintings. Many viewers found them provocative but disturbing. One remembers hearing whispered comments, uncomfortable laughter, personal experiences of urban violence recounted with false bravado, and almost universal speculation about the intent of the artist. How could one put together the serious, good-humored personality of this artist with his aggressive painted sculpture that alternatively seduced and troubled his audience? In retrospect, Lang's “weapons” of the 1980s seem touchingly homemade and evocative of a time merely predicting the eventual course of human events in the most elemental way. In truth, Lang was perhaps more concerned and consumed than many in his artistic audience by the life he witnessed daily on the streets of L.A. Longing for harmony and a state of general and personal well-being, he tned to achieve repose in the neo-pastoral environment of his studio. In his “weapons,’’ Lang elevated and abstracted a crude sculptural medium of human exchange. Talismanic and still powerful, they have a vividness and theatricality that would linger productively in his painting. Gary Lang both sensed the short-lived nature of the urban artistic renaissance going on in L.A. and knew that his own evolution required him to move to New York City, which he did in 1985. Paintings such as Isn't It J4f>riderful [Figure 4] show how secretly fond he was of the then old-fashioned language of modernist abstraction. It is redolent of the distinedy American palette of Morgan Russell, Stuart Davis, or Patrick Henry Bruce. Jazzy shifts from strict flat triangles of primary color to almost descrip­ tive passages of grass green evidence a seriously playful spirit that has characterized Lang’s work from the outset. Perhaps no one enjoys breaking rules more than a person who has effectively internalized them. The wild complexity of Lang’s delirious syntax finds its apotheosis in Night Life [Figure 8], a major painting of 1987. In it, Lang provides a vast panoramic tour through New York’s extravagant zones of entertainment, pleasure, and excess which were spinning down toward entropy in that memorable year of the stock market debacle. Because he was working part-time in a prominent nightclub, Lang had a front row seat at Manhattan’s club scene, which he saw as increasingly threadbare and decadent. In Night Life, a row of fists laid cross-wise at the works center, point pistols direcdv at the viewer. A not of pattern makes the work spin off at odd angles and �»IS”.™?" °< nons and’ PC^ life experience, background, and education have lodged mThe complex art of Gary Lang. His knowing command of paintings many 3 languages and physical poss.biht.es, aUows him to stimulate the viewers imma­ nent awareness of our visual world. His work brings together a remarkable array of issues of critical importance if certain dunens.ons of the art of painting are to survive into the next century. While many of his generation located th<ur painting careers within the domain of narrative-calculating that the subjects of history, politics, cultural identity, or sociology were vastly more interesting than the epistemological issues lying within the domain and language of painting itself—Lang remained quietly, intently focused upon the daily miracles occurring in his studio. Abstract painting took on a more overtly conceptual tone, as his contemporaries quoted modern masters with a cold and vehement irony. Lang watched his contemporaries tearing apart rhe spiritual tradition of abstract painting but seemed to know that they would not succeed. In much of the painting of the 1980s, personal and authentic emotion was removed from the arena of art and replaced by synthetic expressions derived from media sources and delivered in the voice of ironic quotation. To attempt a frank, personal statement in one’s art was to risk ndicule and forfeit a chance to participate in that self-assured, self-congratulatory art scene. At the time, Lang seemed extraordinar­ ily out of step for one so connected and aware of the tides of critical fashion. His work, for all its bad-boy theatricality and dizzying syntax, is quite simply a search for the spiritual through visual experience. Choosing his words haltingly and carefully, struggling to describe what he feels and sees and knows within the process of realizing his work, his conversation often sounds like a plainer reiteration of Kandinsky speaking in the I9I0s or some of Mondrian’s flights of speculation grounded within the realm of art. When he is questioned closely, it becomes apparent that he has not recently reread their essays, even if he probably encountered them sometime in his education. The odd and marvelous experiences with light, space, contradiction, and paradox he describes arise in the everyday routine of his studio. Slowly the state of fragmentation that so characterized his early work gave way to a satisfying wholeness. His kaleidoscopic color remained, but it acquired a new disciplined coherence as each element was aUowed to reveal itself slowly and quietly while contributing to the work conditfoIK f’ He had n°C ad°PCed myOne’S f°rmuIa but had painstakingly arrived at a SeVmto eXpreSS‘Ve °f ** °Wn “ Reddessness reformed itseir into mature, unwavering assertion. recurring scenariounfidT^kev°luClon 35 a painter, it has been interesting to see a with a group of small pai^ings^ome Jjgh.*mpOrtant chanSes m h's work- He begins devotes himself to a cvrl c & ’ Slx °r seven mches in either dimension, and yC1C Of many ^rks. One often has the impression that they will constitute his final goal. Over the years, however, it has is only the opening act of a long drama which is likely to re scale once the imagery is able to speak with an authentic VC painting of 1987—featuring a group of ascending concent brightly colored field of bright horizontal lines—is such a I My own introduction to this work occurred in 198' one day, carrying a small circular painting under his arm an tically serene expression. The little painting pulsated in spat and pull. Muted circles of olive and earth-gray alternated v blue and warm rose. At closer inspection, the colors seemet Their combinations and the format itself created this vital and looking forward to the playing out of this artistic intui new wave of work. It is not surprising that Lang’s critical fortunes impi 1988. Many solo exhibitions in New York featured the dra critics speculated upon their possible meanings, virtually al metaphysical core. Several writers brought up Lang’s provoi ized it as a challenge to usual norms of beauty in painting. Lang has always included a few flamboyant colors 1 spring green, lipstick red. These are memorable but impolil with debased consumer goods of the 1950s and with psyd the late 1960s. Children also favor extravagant color, but n drop such hues from consideration. These are, however, the Lang’s circle paintings of the 1990s, giving them a glowing subordinate range of dark blues, browns, and warm blacks. Another factor supporting the success of this body of i Lang evolved in the application of his color to canvas. The cent painted several times in thin glazes. Initially, he followed the cir< Once established, this understructure provides a base for n moving outward from the center. These suggested some ini colored light. Flat tints alternate and interrupt translucent making it impossible to consider the whole as a mere repet relationships. Surprise and revelation occur again and agaii part to whole and eventually follows the urge to plunge ba core. Lang's raw, dazzling colors regain the rapturous beau in a child’s naive eye, allowing us to see them without preji On several occasions Gary Lang fulfilled his desire a grand scale. An early painting created on a large wall of i San Diego in 1990 was carried out virtually in the spirit o was beautifully and painstakingly crafted with all the com] canvas. At the end of the exhibition, the painting vanished �PAINTINGS AND OBJECTS 1975—1997 1 g a s 1 will constitute his final goal. Over die yean;, however, it has become clear that this stage is only the opening act of a long drama which is likely to reach its climax on a grand scale once the imager}’ is able to speak with an authentic voice. A small untided painting of 198.- —featuring a group of ascending concentric circles hovering over a brightly colored field of bright horizontal lines—is such a beginning. My own introduction to this work occurred in 1988 when Gary Lang appeared one day. earning a small circular painting under his arm and wearing an uncharacteris­ tically serene expression. The litde painting pulsated in space and was full of lively push and pull. Muted circles of olive and earth-gray alternated with circular bands of electric blue and warm rose. At closer inspection, the colors seemed individually unremarkable. Their combinations and the format itself created this vital presence. Full of confidence and looking forward to the playing out of this artistic intuition, Lang was poised for a new wave of work. It is not surprising that Lang’s critical fortunes improved dramatically after 1988. Many solo exhibitions in New York featured the dramatic circle paintings, and critics speculated upon their possible meanings, virtually always discovering their metaphysical core. Several writers brought up Lang’s provocative color and character­ ized it as a challenge to usual norms of beauty in painting. Lang has always included a few flamboyant colors in his palette: irradiated pink, spring green, lipstick red. These are memorable but impolite colors one often associates with debased consumer goods of the 1950s and with psychedelic fashions and art of the late 1960s. Children also favor extravagant color, but most mature artists tend to drop such hues from consideration. These are, however, the very colors that animate Lang’s circle paintings of the 1990s, giving them a glowing presence supported by a subordinate range of dark blues, browns, and warm blacks. Another factor supporting the success of this body of woik is the beautiful technique Lang evolved in the application of his color to canvas. The central core of each work was painted several times in thin glazes. Initially, he followed the circular contours of the form. Once established, this understructure provides a base for new strata of radiating strokes moving outward from the center. These suggested some inner source of brightly colored light Flat tints alternate and interrupt translucent ones in an irregular rhythm, making it impossible to consider the whole as a mere repetitious pattern of predictable relationships. Surprise and revelation occur again and again as the viewer moves from part to whole and eventually follows the urge to plunge back into the spinning, glowing core. Lang’s raw, dazzling colors regain the rapturous beauty and fascination they have in a child’s naive eye, allowing us to see them without prejudice once again. On several occasions Gar}' Lang fulfilled his desire to create a circle painting on a grand scale. An early painting created on a large wall of the Mark Quint Gallery in San Diego in 1990 was earned out virtually in the spirit of an Indian sand painting. It was beautifully and painstakingly crafted with all the complexity and care of a work on canvas. At the end of the exhibition, the painting vanished under a new coat of gallery • 21 1 �22 G A R Y p L A N G “i-tg of rhe t»T0“’ P““” of P”’“ng h" COn“““1 ” bt * sourceof strength in the lives of both artists. Lang ’s painted installations reveal a number of important things about his work and his cum state of mind While creating them, he seems to dwell within a charmed and focused state of being. It is clear that he is utterly secure in the knowledge of what he is going to do. Intellectually and technically, he has resolved the central questions about the image and its expressive intent. This leaves him free to explore just how the work is to unfold. As each color is laid down, it proposes its own array of possible responses from the painter. Lang is always stalking the edge of disaster, hungry for surprise and eager to do something so odd and arbitrary that it just might not work at all. He will often sequester a particularly dominant hue in one edge or corner of a painting while daring the rest of the work to come to terms with it. He will build up a complex area of a painting to a degree unmatched anywhere else in the work, only to counterbalance it with an equally compelling but different set of elements and keep it all in splendid and continuous motion. Upsetting, amusing and deeply interesting, these are masterworks of painterly syntax. These tendencies and habits are played out most rigorously in another body of work begun in the late 1980s and continuing into the present decade. They are the horizontally and vertically oriented grid compositions or “plaid paintings,” as the artist has irrever­ ently termed them [Figures 12 and 14]. Linearity is the ruling principle i:in these marked dizzying, hard-hitting encounters with speed and color. They exist in n. contrast to the meditative quietude of the circular canvases of the same time period. Full of the frenetic energy of urban life, Lang’s plaid paintings recall the unceasing interrelatedness of Piet Mondrian’s final works created in New York City from late 1940 to early 1944, his experiments with interwoven colored tapes to create an animated grid, and his famous homage to New York, the Broadway Boogie- Langs plaid paintings have just as much in common with the performed character of action painting—which quickly becomes apparent upon closer inspection. He mvites the viewer to follow each colored line on its transit across the surface, a journey mvolvmg mult,pie points of intersection and layering as one color moves over mti f Bold, thick linear elements stand as architectonic pillars screening the imphed vndlirh P7rg- 8^’ Slender membeK toVerse space £1? eve^g moves, undulating in ok but S hOnZ°n each wo k eZot “ assertions ZS s^Z^ °f a COmP- at sea. Color plays atajor ^r, W? b>' * of “mb™d everal strong colonstic voices. Examining them closely, one can often sense the season of the year in which they n er, painted or die e artist’s world as they evolved. Out of this highly personal syntax came a sublime group of wrought and optically complex that Lang called them his ''mirror p 20]. In them, all deep space disappears and is replaced by a shimmei colored light caused by a delicate network of interlaced colored line their light back toward the viewer and to dazzle—indeed mesn nature of this color is difficult to describe. Certainly the numbs graded proximity brings retinal saturation into play. One becon sheer presence of light than of any specific color. Lang’s appro; that the work has a remarkable vulnerability and a good deal ol Each of these paintings appears as a revelation, a gift that can r repeated. Their compelling quietude and beauty recall the med mature circle paintings, also the end of an important concept i Throughout Lang’s career, his pursuit of a meaningful i panied by a need for an appropriate and often innovative form three-dimensional painted weapons, the small and also very lar site works and murals, and the grandly scaled gridded painting is a strong element of theatricality’ in Lang’s choice of format, assertive emotional element to his color. Putting such dynamic ing elements into play, Lang risks calling attention to one aspe detriment of the whole. He seems to enjoy, indeed crave, this s drama. Through time he has gained an astonishing mastery' of He can now achieve a state of calm resonance out of colors sei child’s crayon box. Scale now supports his ability to speak to t eagerness to offer something memorable and important. Colo now so firmly' a part of his aesthetic that their disruptive powe: Gary Lang is a valuable and important American paint and celebrated generation. He has taken hold of the complex i modernist painting and used them with affection, integrity', an adventure. True to his time, Lang almost obscures the tendern enterprise behind a brash facade of sassy color and quick picti demands attention and does not let the viewer out of its grasy pleasures of this work are deep and genuine but they are not e has known for quite a while that the world is not an easy plac But through his art, the disquietude, the noise, the run disillusionment of our time are held at arm’s length; and a glir transcendent emerges from the fray. For Gary’ Lang it can be i offer the outcome of his adventure would be to deny its audit daily’ life. Each work requires that we join him on his artistic j own revelations and outcomes each step of the way. �PAINTINGS AND OBJECTS 1975-1997 was also the tied Lang in her support ■d to be a iut his work charmed [ge of what juestions ;t how the >ossible igry for rot work at er of a 1 build up a k, only to ind keep it resting, >dy of wotk rizontally has irrevere in these larked time recall the ewYork ired tapes to y Boogiermed r inspection, irface, a moves over screening the zourse of the ulating in 'lays a major . Rather, ibined tan often sense die season of the year in which they were painted or the emotional tenor of the artists world as they evolved. Out of this highly personal sjutax came a sublime group of paintings so finely wrought and optically complex that Lang called them his “mirror paintings” [Figures 16 and 20]. In them, all deep space disappears and is replaced by a shimmer of infinitely graded colored light caused by a delicate network of interlaced colored lines. They seem to throw their light back toward the viewer and to dazzle—indeed mesmerize—until the very nature of this color is difficult to describe. Certainly the number of hues and their graded proximity brings retinal saturation into play. One becomes more aware of the sheer presence of light than of any specific color. Lang’s approach is so plainly intuitive that the work has a remarkable vulnerability and a good deb of emotional impact. Each of these paintings appears as a revelation, a gift that can never be reconstructed or repeated. Their compelling quietude and beauty recall the meditative nature of Lang’s mature circle paintings, also the end of an important concept in its development. Throughout Langs career, his pursuit of a meaningful image has been accom­ panied by a need for an appropriate and often innovative format, for example, the three-dimensional painted weapons, the small and also very large circular canvases, the site works and murals, and the grandly scaled gridded paintings of recent years. There is a strong element of theatricality in Lang’s choice of format, just as there is an assertive emotional element to his color. Putting such dynamic and potentially disturb­ ing elements into play, Lang risks calling attention to one aspect of a work to the detriment of the whole. He seems to enjoy, indeed crave, this sense of danger and drama. Through time he has gained an astonishing mastery of these treacherous tools. He can now achieve a state of calm resonance out of colors seldom seen outside a child’s crayon box. Scale now supports his ability to speak to the audience and his eagerness to offer something memorable and important. Color, scale, and process are now so firmly a part of his aesthetic that their disruptive power is set free. Gary Lang is a valuable and important American painter within his talented and celebrated generation. He has taken hold of the complex mechanisms of advanced modernist painting and used them with affection, integrity, and a sense of high adventure. True to his time, Lang almost obscures the tenderness and lyricism of his enterprise behind a brash facade of sassy color and quick pictorial moves. His work demands attention and does not let the viewer out of its grasp without a struggle. The pleasures of this work are deep and genuine but they are not easy. It is clear that Lang has known for quite a while that the world is not an easy place. But through his art, the disquietude, the noise, the rumble of urban life, the disillusionment of our time are held at arm’s length; and a glimpse of something transcendent emerges from the fray. For Gary Lang it can be no other way. To merely offer the outcome of his adventure would be to deny its authenticity and relevance to daily life. Each work requires that we join him on his artistic journey, experiencing our own revelations and outcomes each step of the way. • 23 I i I ��I �'4I I £r 2a Weapon, 1980 enamel, monofilament, and aluminum II X 4 X 4 inches 2b Weapon, 1980 aluminum and rubber 13x4x4 inches ����Isn’t It 11 endtrfnl, 1981 oil and acrylic on canvas 17 X 9’1 inches ��5a Urn, 1982 acrylic, tape and wood 29 X 18 X 18 inches 5b Bullet, 1982 lacquer on wood 17 X 514 X 514 inches �! - r 11 WJv --t �1 f ■ f I* I 1 I �/Ij'/J ■ ! in lie S|nJi&—Better Han Milk, 1985—86 ■ t >• rylii <>n i.mv.is <“ i / 60 irnhi", �( ���I I ■ " • .v e i!x '-' X .'? , �������Pl 11 'i _ ta4 - ... •’ st >1 8I fl ■ i I __ ZL L J .. 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La Ea.ELx-Ea- [ doJ o I I �■' - ’T. w x 60 mcfet* �I ! f f f I 2 BMiasasi iss ■ ■ ! | a -— ~- J □ wg JL X ■ir" iii Ji hr L :i.. jF WR P- L — rnfcrar_ » p. < 1 r»t ‘-------1 == = r Kl11 BO ill It ■II il * HM iMMM E__ ■ ■ 1 MJ J ;j = nl Eli-I— IS ' l I ' : I T-^ ■ < ( f ,1 II n -- ---- -J X; " J XT L 'L f Q 1 n .'t ii- -3 x=^J xnII t1;H______ iixiXx a __ M: _" t l ■ ' ,L r-T iTIe ~^ilr 2-1 J 'lil.J J KI I„ KI ' L1 if: x'^ 1 i” c y 1 +eBtF * ; s. . f ] I i til r- -■ n I �18 Processing Funk and Wonder #2, 1994 acrylic on canvas 63 X 63 inches �I >’ !3: * i -l! I I n !1 ; |; 5 B n = n □ 3=i I ‘I jar ELE hjMts ^REPiH £ ■> ■ f [ d sI f “ ° ti=a! fol I i fc z: a ills I II I �y �■ f I J i ■ Btl L = ma - y^r»i r I ■■■ ■a II im3La o -■i —a 14 y -irri"1 - n hj=L! tj-' - —i ^- "-] -:. u. ~ ? IE i -1-A r �7H et" Y : ■ 5! Z . Y �4 4 i J L- ; 1 . KHkHkI .* .t.I. 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I E l'. : ; ■•-■■•• ■•’ IM!!p f!h ■...............;c ■•::::: J.-' !1 1 :£k 1 i ® f C- ■ g : ' & s| P 4 B * ■ , W"» *; M L -. . a- , e. •£,>'-*_> ai < ‘■.r:r; . n :rrr -:~ :Hp F*M fit u-- -:■• :i t .. ■- - : "IM J .LJ ;2 !' .4 -m:: :::::::■ ......... ■ ■’ ■;r’r:rrr.’'J r raErue siijt iaa»asn . _ B- — » J B4 t E L S U • e - £ - E:.: B 1- SO .a. E -.tLlLuti . .& »r J; * T'i : : :: �I 1 21 Conquering, 1995 acrylic on canvas 108 X 72 inches ��I ■ ■ 1 f ;l 22 Dream Twister #4 (Testimonial), 1996 acrylic on canvas 60 X 60 inches I I ■ I I ��■ ■ • • acrylic on cantos 113 incEes diameter ����CHECKLIST OF THE EXHIBITION All dimensions are given in inches; height precedes width precedes depth. Barcelona Painting, 1975 acrylic on canvas 40 X 13 Weapon, 1980 enamel, monofilament, and aluminum EE2, 1982 acrylic on bamboo and wood 142 X 13 X 13 Collection of Joseph Austin, Manhattan Beach, California Night Light, 1990 acrylic on canvas 72 X 60 Collection of Ru The Loss Promotes the Cain, 1983 paper and staples (aggraphage) size and elements variable Mirror #33, 1991 acrylic on canvas 60 X 60 The Maslow Co. Weapon, 1980 aluminum and rubber 13 X 4 X 4 Night Life, 1987 acrylic on canvas 96 X 72 Prayers, 1991 acrylic on canvas 60 diameter Spear, 1981 wood, acrylic paint, and rhinestones 70 X 6 x 6 Collection of Natasha Sigmund, New York City Untitled, 1987 acrylic on canvas 36 X 8 Collection of Tom Rosenberg, Chicago Blade and White AL acrylic on panel 14 X II Collection of G' Dried in Sound, 1981 oil and acrylic on canvas 84 X 58 Ro Lion, 1987 acrylic and wood 44 X 32 X 30 Private Collection, New York City Ruth s Truths. 199 acrylic on canvat 60 X 60 Collection of Th, Fez, 1988-89 acrylic on canvas 43 X 43 Collection of Rebecca and AlexTrepte. La Jolla, California Processing Funk an acrylic on canvai 63 x 63 Collection of Jo IIX4X4 Collection of Bill Ritter and Janny Scott, New York City Isn't It Wonderful, 1981 oil and acrylic on canvas 17 X 9 % Bullet, 1982 lacquer on wood 17 X 5% X 5!4 Urn, 1982 acrylic, tape, and wood 29 X 18 X 18 Full Circle, 1990 acrylic on canvas 84 diameter CcrLpu'mg, 1995 acrylic on canva 108 x 72 ourtesy Quint �60X60 I . -i Cclecr on. A'iikes-Barrc Pennsyiwanta ■;. c.meter E-r.v Dmpp'ari-c:. 1992 irr. lie on pznel I4XII . -irt-cf GF.enoIee and Bernard Zurdier, Pans AxiiPaT'.', 1993 acrylic on cz-i'.as 60x60 .ss,7 rs• n Publishing Group, Washington, DC Li-.sr and II: idrr 7t2, 1994 a:rf:c on ansa 63x63 '• -■ “ R.-.n B. K-,<'gel, New York City ' . I ■■ C acr .Lr < n cxr.vzr108x72 Courtesy Qi :.r:' Contemy irary Art, La JolL, California acrylic on canvas 12 X 12 Courtesy Brian Gross Fine Art, San Francisco Grand Circle, 1997 acrylic on canvas 113 diameter Arsenal of Starsfor Chance, 1997 acrylic on canvas 96 x 96 A NOTE ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS Several important paintings shown in this catalogue could not be included in the exhibition. In addition to Mirroring Heart landing), collection of the artist, shown on the cover, they include the following: Figure 7, Collection Angelika and Marco Vianello-Chiodo, London Figure 10, Collection of the artist J ?igurc J 2, Collection of Ralph Wernicke, Stuttgart, Germany Figure 16, Courtesy Galerie Ziircher, Paris Figure 19,Private Collection, San Juan, Puerto Rico Figure 2d), private Collection, Paris �.C lio-' Angeles. Ne« Yotk City education 1993 Cho-.. urd Art Institute, Los Angeles, 1968-1969 Whitney Museum of American Art, Independent Study Brian Gross Fine Art, San Francisco Galena Cadaques, Cadaques, Spain Michael Klein Inc., NewYork City Program, 19/0—19/I Qhfomia Institute of the Arts, Valencia (B.F.A., 1973) hale University, New Haven (M.EA., 1975) 1992 AWARDS AND HONORS Michael Klein Inc., NewYork City Nina Freudenheim Gallery, Buffalo, NewYork Margaret Lipworth Fine Art, Boca Raton, Florida The Elizabeth Foundation for the Arts Grant, 1995 Fulbrieht/Hayes Travel Grant, Barcelona, Spain, 1975-1977 X-EA. Yale University, Sculpture Commission, 1974 Annina Nosei Gallery, NewYork City 1991 1990 SOLO EXHIBITIONS 1997 2nan Gross Fine Art, San Francisco Contemporary Art, La Jolla, California .rardom Art Gallery,Wilkes University,Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania Galen* Zurcher, Paris 1996 •<a .: Bor**! Fine Art,The Hague.The Netherlands ,„et project, NewYork City —' ■' Ftne Art. San Francisco -■r -.-.omu -jm/Ihe Hague.The Netherlands Annina Nosei Gallery, NewYork City Mark Quint Gallery, La Jolla, California 1989 Simon Watson Gallery, New York City Annina Nosei Gallery, New York City Pretto/Berland Hall Gallery, New York City Mark Quint Gallery, La Jolla, California 1988 Julian Pretto Gallery, New York City 1987 1984 Kirk de Gooyer Gallery Los Angilcs Baskerville — Warsen Gallery. 1- - . -rk SE �1984 SELECTED GROUP EXHIBITIONS Kuk d: Gzc-vr Gzllerv, i_os Ar.gHes Baskerville — Watson Gal’crv. New York Cirv 1997 Benefit Exhibition, Pat Hearn Gallery, New York City Drawing From Life, Stark Gallery, New York City Cramercy International Contemporary Art Fair Miami al the Raleigh Hotel, Friedman-Guinness, Miami, Florida Gramercy International Contemporary Art Fair at Chateau Mannont, Z-SZ Friedman-Guinness, Los Angeles FIAC, Paris ?<Lrk Qzzr.t Cxzllcry. Ssn Diego 1996 1981 Grammy International Contemporary Art Fair at Chateau Mannont, ~:.zz i-zuler, Phoenix. Anzonz Friedman-Guinness, Los Angeles The Collection of Julian Pretto, Wadsworth Atheneum, I98C ulzzH Kantor Gallerv. Los Angeles —■'.-LE. Gallen. Los An^-eHs Hartford, Connecticut Mid-Winter Exhibition, Brian Gross Fine Art, San Francisco Quint Contemporary Art, La Jolla, California 1995 : 75 ?jtf of Arzenran Studies Barcelona, Spain •-tru j •. j.'ior J de Hu EiteHt Lnrdos. _>Hd-id ipain Color Painting, Brian Gross Fine Art, San Francisco Julian’s Show, Littlejohn Contemporary, New York City /Irw.-Wg bna^s. Gallery 400,The University of Illinois at Chicago 1974 _z:v Airf jailer y, Haven. <L'..r_ri^<'r..,cuT 1994 Azw York City Abstract Painting, Salvatore Ala Gallery, New York City // :<t G.lcr, Charles Cowles Gallery, New York City G' ri.rtnr rn (yurtlion, Galerie Ztircher, Paris �I . | GARY LANG 1988 1993 IN Return of the Cadav.e Evquis. The Drawing Center, NewYork City Tkrtr Painters. Margaret Lipworth Fine Art, - I Boca Raton. Florida Put Ctar-B Coast, Nancy Drysdale Gallery, Washmgton, DC Sailing to Byzantium with Disenchantment, Sergio Tossi Arte Contemporanea, Prato, Italy Collage. Brian Gross Fine Art, San Francisco Lang McLaughlin, Venezia, Nina Freudenheim Gallery, Buffalo, New York Kurswechsel, Michael Klein Inc. at Transart Exhibitions, Cologne, Germany 1981 Mutations, Annina Nosei Gallery, New York City Croup Exhibition, Molly Barnes Gid i, . Ls Args Albright-Knox Museum, Buffalo, New York Julian Pretto Gallery, New York City Intimate Object, Downtown Gallery. L -s .m •; fmetgng Downtown Los Angeles Cyprus Gall, Adler Gallery, Los Angeles Small Format, Lang and O'Hara, New York City Los Angeles California Artists, Tower Gallery. NewYork City 1987 Ulnke Kantor, Los Angeles Adler Gallery, Los Angeles Gary Lang and Joe Fay, Mark Quint Gallery Los - Working in Brooklyn—Painting, Brooklyn Museum, The New Art of Downtown Lc: Angela, Madison Art (. Wall Constructions. Security Pacific Bank, Los An; Wisconsin (traveled to four North Amer Brooklyn, New York Recent Acquisitions, Community Redevelopment .’ 1986 Los Angeles Paris Biennale, Paris 1992 Adler Gallery, Los Angeles 1978 Ecstacy, Dooley Le Cappelaine, New York City Geometric Strategies, Marilyn Pearl Gallery, New York City Modem Objects: A New Dawn, Baskerville + Watson. New York City United Nations Plaza, New York City Ageometry, Michael Klein Inc., New York City Vibology, White Columns, New York City 1985 1976 Off the Stmts, Los Angeles Ed Thorp Gallery, New York City Metropolitan Transit, Los Angeles 1991 Bill and Merry Norris Collection, Pepperdine University, Annina Nosei Gallery, New York City Summer Show, Michael Klein Inc., New York City Los Angeles Recent Painting in Southern California, Fisher Gallery, University of Preview, Michael Klein Inc., New York City 1984 1990 A Broad Spectrum: Contemporary Los Angeles Painters and Sculptors. Design Center, Los Angeles Annina Nosei Gallery, New York City Barcelona (traveled to Madrid'; Group Exhibition, Geneva 1973 Crime and Punishment, Triton Museum, Santa Clara, California Grids, Vrej Baghoomian Gallery, New York City ( Southern California, Los Angeles Nancy Drysdale Gallery, Washington, DC Hill Gallery, Birmingham, Michigan 1975 Americans Painting in Spain. Institute of North Al Olympiad: Summer ’84, Koplin Center, Los Angeles ( ( ( hale University’ Art Gallerv. New Haven, Coni 1972 Whitney’ Museum ot American Art, NewYori The Grid, Ben Shahn Galleries, William Paterson College, Wayne, New Jersey 1983 SELECTED LITERATURE Mark Quint Gallery, La Jolla, California University Place Gallery, New York City Fluid Geometry, Cummings Art Center, Connecticut College, L.A.C.E. Gallery, Los Angeles Bacon, George. “Un tour des galeries." Lejortrr Jan Baum Gallery, Los Angeles (September 1994': 41. Blain, Michael. “Formalist Ammunition.’ Los. New London, Connecticut Croup Exhibition, Guillen & Tresserra Galena d’Art, Barcelona Plains Museum of Art, Moorhead, Minnesota 1989 Group Exhibition, Mark Quint Gallery, San Diego Artists Of the 80s: Selected Worksfrom the Maslow Collection, Sordoni Art Gallery, Wilkes College, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania A-pects of Painting, Julian Pretto Gallery, New York City Jir.iiarirnal, Fiction/Non-Fiction Gallery, New York City <■' up LMition, Annina Nosei Gallery, New York City ( omtng iff Age, Madison Art Center, Madison. Wisconsin 1982 .December 30. 1980'. Branson. Michael. “Art: Brooklyn Painters.’’ T 4th Anniversary of Chinese Chance, University Place Gallery. (July 3,1987): III, 23. Camper, Fred. “Taking Aim at Weapons,’’ Ch. NewYork City Sunday in Rio, L.A.C.E., Los Angeles (September 15. 1995': 34-35. Dans. 1 htl. Point ot Departure,’ Isthmus Me Theatrical Abstractions, Jan Baum Gallery, Los Angeles Sanders Collection, Plains Art Museum. Moorhead, Minnesota s,n] (June 5. 1987': 26. �PAINTINGS AND OBJECTS 1975-1997 • ork Ct i Ity 1981 'fork Farmer, Rob. Art in the Round: 7 he Sensational Circles of Grcwr Exhibition. Molly Barnes Gallen-, Los Angeles Object, Downtown Gallery, Los Angeles Los Angeles Artists. Cyprus Gallery. Los Angeles f City, CwfVrnu drtirtS, Tower Gallery. New York City Hi.'. Constructions. Security Pacific Bank. Los Angeles L'irike Kantor, Los Angeles Gag? Lang andjx Fay, Mark Quint Gallen*. Los Angeles Th-New An cf LHe&nwi LaMrgeks. Madison Art Center, Madison, Wisconsin (traveled to four North American cities) Recent Ar^uisitians, Communin’ Redevelopment Agency, Los Angeles 1978 ^on.NewYodlC!^ I United Nations Plaza. New York Citv 1976 University, — Spasn. Institute of North American Studies, 1973 Yale University Art Gallery. New Haven. Connecticut 1972 Whitnev Museum cf American Art, New York City SELECTED LITERATURE Baron, George. “Un tour des gaieties,” Le Journal des Arts 'September 1994z: 41. Blain, Michael “Formalist Ammunition,” Lc: Angeles Times esota 'December 30, 19&0y. Brenson, Michael. “Art: Brooklyn Painters,” The New York Times (July 3, 1937 : III, 23? Diego Camper. Fred. “Taking Aim ar Weapons,” Chicago Reader Place Gallery, September 15. 1995J 34—35. Davis, Phil “Point of Departure," Isthmus Madison, Wiscon­ ■ s Angela ,rhcad, Mmnesota 1984) : 6. Huntington, Richard. ‘Art,” The Buffalo News (September 10, 1993): 20. . Beauty’s Truth,” The Buffalo News (September 10, 1993). ----------- . Titled Eye,” The Buffalo News (June 12,1992): 35. ----------- • "Ugly Beauty,” The Buffalo News (October I, 1993): 24. Huser, France. “L’Amerique a Paris,” L’Officiel de la Mode (January 1996): 135. Kaiser, Franz W. Gary Lang: The Hague Project (The Hague: Haags Group Fxhzi:::rr., Geneva Angeles 5, 1996): 17. Hicks, Emily. Things Fall Apart,” Artweek (August, 25, 1975 Barcelona traveled to Madrid) linters and Sculptcrs, News (December 1986): 27-28. Hawkins, Julie. “The Circle Game,” San Francisco Chronicle (May (November 1994): 202-204. Jolis, Alan. “In Brief: Gary Lang: Zurcher, Paris,” Art News Americans ita Clara. California New York Artist Gary Lang,” Where San Francisco (June 1996): SI. Goldman, Leah. “San Diego/Gary Lang/Mark Quint,” Art Ed Thorp Gallery, New York Citv Gallery, University of 77 sin] June 5, 1987/ 26. Gemeentemuseum, 1996), exhibition catalogue. Koplos, Janet. “Gary Lang at Crosby Street Project,” Art in America (September 1996): 108—109. Larsen, Susan C. “Gary Lang at Mark Quint Gallery,” Artforum (September 1982): 84—85. ----------- . Sunshine and Shadow: Recent Painting in Southern California (Los Angeles: The Fellows of Contemporary Art, 1985) , exhibition catalogue. McDonald, Robert. “Paintings That Defy Description,” Los Angeles Times (October I, 1986): I, 7. ----------- . "Portraits of the Artist As Life Itself,” Visions (Winter 1993): 31-32. Moorman, Margaret. "Gary Lang at Annina Nosei,” Art News (December 1988): 206,210. Morgan, Robert C. “Three Strategies,” Art Press (February- March, 1996): 64-65. Nathan, Jean. “Gary Lang,” (New York: Michael Klein Inc., 1991), exhibition brochure. Norklun, K. “The Disjunctive Experience,” Artweek (February 19, 1983): 6. Nuridsany, Michel. "Gary Lang,” Figaro (September 19, 1995). �A 78 . GARY LANG Ohlman, Leah. "San Diego/Gary Lang/Mark Quint,” Art (December 1986): 27-28. Ostrow, Saul. “Gary Lang Interview," BOMB 45 (Fall 1993): ■ 14-16. ______ . “More Parts to the Whole: Abstract Painting After Modernism," Art Press (French Edition, November 1995). O'Toole, Judith, H. Artists of the 80s: Selected Worksfrom the Maslow Collection (Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania: Sordoni Art Gallery, Wilkes College, 1989), exhibition catalogue. P„ R.L. [Pincus, Robert, L] "Galleries Downtown," Los Angeles Times (August 10, 1984): VI, 16. Pincus, Robert, L. "Art of Excess: On Energy Alone Lang's Canvases Hie the Bulls’-eye,” The San Diego UnionTribune (March 20, 1997): 40. --------- . "Mark Quint Finds Space for New Art,” The San Diego Union (October I, 1989): E-3. P., J.L. [Pinte, Jean-Louis] "A Vibrant Geometry,” Tigaroscope (September 28, 1994,): 54. Pinte, Jean-Louis. "Gary Lang: Les miroirs de 1’ame,” Tigaroscope (October 4—10, 1995): 43. Rubinstein, Raphael. “Gary Lang at Michael Klein,” Art in America (March 1994): 96—97. Saltz, Jerry. "A Year in the Life: Tropic of Painting,” Art in America (October 1994): 90-101. Scott, Sue. "Ageometry,” Art News (May I993):I4I-I42. Selwyn, Marc. “Three Painters," Flash Art (NovemberDecember 1989): 126-127. Smith, Roberta. "Gary Lang: 'Hague Project,”’ The New York Times (February 9, 1996): C23. . "Old, Traditional and Alternative Spaces," The New York Times (May 5, 1989): III, 30. Stamets, Bill. "Art: A Warm Gun; A Wet Paintbrush," Chicago Sunday Times (September 29, 1995): NC 3. Stockinger, Jacob. "Color Shows Joy,Tension of the Artist" [Madison, Wisconsin] (June 12, ’ [Tomkin^Calvm], "Ageometry," The New Yorker (December Vezin, Luc, and Bernard Ziircher. "La FI AC i ■ nurcU de I’art?),” InfoMalin (October 7 & 8. I . ; . Wat, Pierre. "Gary Lang: L’lntuitif,” Beaux An: (October 1995): 53. Westfall, Stephen. "Gary Lang at Julian Pretto,” inAmr,:, (December 1988): 146. -----------"Gary Lang: A Conversation with Stephen Westfall'' Tema Celeste (January/March 1992/. 98-99. . Fluid Ceometry (New London: Cummings Art Center Connecticut College, 1990), exhibition catalogue. Zimmer, William. "Fluid Geometry: Six Painters Offer Expressionistic Shapes,” The New Fori Times (December 9, 1990): XII. Zinsser, John. "Geometry and Its Discontents," Tema Celeste (Autumn 1991): 72—76. i I EXHIBITION UNDERWR Diversified Records Services. 1; r Annette Evans Foundation for the Arts and Humanities Franklin First Savings Bank Friends of the Sordoni Art Gallen Maslow Lumia Bartonllo Advertising. Mellon Bank, N.A. Pennsylvania Council on the Arts The John Sloan Memorial Foundation Andrew J. Sordoni, III Wilkes University SELECTED PUBLIC COLLECTIONS A. T. &T, Somerset, New Jersey The Brooklyn Museum City Redevelopment Agency, Los Angeles Contemporary Art Museum, University of South Flonda.Tamm The Detroit Institute of Arts IBM Corporation, Somers, New York Madison Art Center, Madison, Wisconsin The Maslow Collection, Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania Meadowbrook Art Gallery, Oakland University, Rochester, Michigan Museum of Art, University of Michigan, Ann Arbor Nordstern, Cologne, Germany Paine Webber, New York City Plains Art Museum, Moorhead, Minnesota Portland Museum of Art, Portland, Maine Rayovac, Madison, Wisconsin Thompson Publishing Group, New York City Tuttle & Taylor, Los Angeles Wadsworth Atheneum, Hartford. Connecticut ( SPONSORS The Business Council CBI-Creative Business Interiors Eastern Insurance Group Friedman Electric Supply Co., Inc. Marquis Art and Frame Nabisco, Inc. G. R. Noto Electrical Construction Panzitta Enterprises, Inc. Pennsylvania Millers Mutual Insuran Rosenn. Jenkins and Greenwald, L.L. Trion Industries Inc. This exhibition is in honor of Dr. RctB been funded in part by a generous giftH Foundation. Maslow Lumia BartcrilL.® provided additional support to unden^ �■4rr-:octotcr CtO' 4r? 4^, EXHIBITION UNDERWRITERS : 98-99. Diversified Records Services, Inc. Annette Evans Foundation for the Arts and Humanities Franklin First Savings Bank Friends of the Sordoni Art Gallery Maslow Lumia Bartorillo Advertising, Inc. Mellon Bank, N.A. Pennsylvania Council on the Arts The John Sloan Memorial Foundation, Inc. Andrew J. Sordoni, HI Wilkes University tmmgs Art Ce, ;nter, tio" «talOgue. nters Qffer December lts ” Cdesu TIONS ACKNOWLEDGMENTS This exhibition and catalogue would not have been possible without the enthusiastic support of Gary Lang. Additional thanks to the following: Joseph Austin John Beck Marsha Chase Eric Fischl Esther Friedman Thomas H. Garver Ap Gewald Brian Gross SPONSORS The Business Council CBI-Creative Business Interiors Eastern Insurance Group Friedman Electric Supply Co., Inc. Marquis Art and Frame Nabisco, Inc. G. R. Noto Electrical Construction Panzitta Enterprises, Inc. Pennsylvania Millers Mutual Insurance Co. Rosenn, Jenkins and Greenwald, L.L.P. Trion Industries Inc. urh Florida. Tampa Sylvania sity. m Arbor ty This exhibition is in honor of Dr. Roy E. Morgan and has been funded in part by a generous gift from the Sordoni Foundation. Maslow Lumia Bartorillo Advertising, Inc. provided additional support to underwrite the catalogue. 4 Robert J. Heaman, Ph.D. Franz W. Kaiser John B. Koegel Nancy L. Krueger Raymond and Shirley Lang Susan C. Larsen, Ph.D. Melanie Maslow Lumia The Maslow Collection Ruth Pastine Mark Quint Bill Ritter Tom Rosenberg Jon Schaffer Robert Schweitzer Janny Scott Natasha Sigmund Andrew J. Sordoni, HI Eric Stark Richard E. Thompson Rebecca and Alex Trepte James Turrell JeffWecker Gwenolee and Bernard Zurcher �ADVISORY commission Freddie Bittenbender Christopher N. Breiseth, Ph.D. Marion M. Conyngham Virginia C. Davis, Chair Stanley I Grand, Ph.D. Robert J. Heaman, Ph.D. Mary Jane Henry Keith A. Hunter, Esq. J. Michael Lennon, Ph.D. Melanie Maslow Lumia Theo Lumia Kenneth Marquis Constance R. McCole Hank O'Neal Arnold Rifkin Kim Ross Charles A. Shaffer, Esq. Susan Shoemaker, Esq. William Shull Helen Farr Sloan Andrew J. Sordoni, HI Sally Sprankle Sanford B. Sternlieb, M.D. Mindi Thalenfeld Thomas H. van Arsdale Joel Zitofsky STAFF Stanley I Grand, Ph.D., Director Nancy L. Krueger, Co-ordinator Earl W. Lehman, Preparator Callery Attendants Tom Harrington Sarah Karlavage Amy Mazeitis LisaTabbit �GATLO«C -» �� Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Exhibition Programs, 1973-present Description An account of the resource Exhibition programs created by the Sordoni Art Gallery from 1973 to the present. Digitized by Wilkes University Archives interns, Zachary Mendoza and Sophia Kruspha. Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource The Sordoni Art Gallery Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived Wilkes University Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available The Sordoni Art Gallery Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1973-present Rights Information about rights held in and over the resource Wilkes University retains copyright of these exhibition programs. Language A language of the resource English Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition programs, flyers, and calendars. Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Text A resource consisting primarily of words for reading. Examples include books, letters, dissertations, poems, newspapers, articles, archives of mailing lists. Note that facsimiles or images of texts are still of the genre Text. Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource 1997 May 11 Gary Lang: Paintings and Objects Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Gary Lang Stanley I. Grand Susan C. Larson Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1997 May 11 - August 8 Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource PDF Description An account of the resource This survey seeks to understand the nature of his accomplishment by establishing a chronology and contextualization of his works, by providing an interpretation of his philosophy and a decoding of his methodology, and by locating him within the context of the great modernist colorists from Cezanne to Albers. Type The nature or genre of the resource Exhibition program Subject The topic of the resource painting paintings Gary Lang sculpture sculptor