Black Mountain College and Its Legacy at Loretta Howard Gallery

September 15 to October 29, 2011
525-531 West 26th Street, between 10th and 11th avenues
New York City, (212) 695-0164

Black Mountain College and Its Legacy, co-curated by Robert Mattison and Loretta Howard, reflects the impressive roster of artists that made the institution outside of Asheville, North Carolina legendary. As expected, the exhibition features work by many of the College’s bold-faced names—Josef Albers, Willem de Kooning, Hazel Larsen, Ray Johnson, Robert Motherwell, Franz Kline, Robert Rauschenberg, Cy Twombly, and Jack Tworkov—most of whom served as teachers at the school.  However, the show excels for including lesser-known artists like Leo Amino, Jorge Fick, Joe Fiore, and Richard Lippold. The exhibition often juxtaposes works at Black Mountain with something representative and later. Adjacent photographs of the artists facilitate the narrative.

For nearly two decades Black Mountain College (1933-1956) puttered and spurted along offering an improvised curriculum and a revolving door to artists, poets, composers, scientists, and anyone else who wanted to participate in its program known for placing individual creative discovery at the top of an alternative agenda. The founders hoped to intertwine living and learning, believing, as quoted by Martin Duberman in his 1972 study on the College, that “as much real education took place over the coffee cups as in the classrooms.” The college was notorious for it’s spontaneous discussions in its dining hall overlooking Lake Eden.

Anni Albers wrote in an early issue of the Black Mountain College Bulletin, “Most important to one’s own growth is to see oneself leave the safe ground of accepted conventions and to find oneself alone and self-dependent. It is an adventure which can permeate one’s whole being.” This statement captures the essence of Black Mountain College making it fitting that an exquisite tapestry by the artist is one of the first works visitors encounter.

Josef Albers features prominently in the exhibition. Despite my personal aversion to his stringent methodologies there can be no doubting his influence upon the young itinerants who stumbled into his classroom. Both his 1937 monochrome, Composure and his Homage to the Square (1960) hanging opposite are fine examples of his strict color code, but boring in their overtly calculated way.

Most impressive of the exhibition’s early against mid-career comparisons is Kenneth Noland’s small painting V.V. (1949), and Soft Touch (1963). One can feel the presence of Albers’ teachings in the colorful quadrilateral symmetry of the earlier work. Noland’s short geometric gesture stretches out in the later work to become one of his celebrated V-shaped Chevrons.  In another comparison, an early photograph by Kenneth Snelson of dewdrops suspended on a spider web from 1948, offers a remarkable insight into the artist’s use of line and tension that can be found in sculptural works in the years that followed.

Certain pairings are more referential: Pat Passlof’s early example borrows gesture from de Kooning, with whom she traveled to Black Mountain to study in 1948, while the later piece builds up color from Milton Resnick, who she married in 1961. Passlof tells the story that after Albers tore up Elaine de Kooning’s homework in front of class, Passlof promptly gathered her things and left his classroom never to return. Elaine is represented by a fabulous enamel on paper titled Black Mountain Number 6 (1948).

The exhibition could have benefited from stricter curatorial selection, most notably in the case of Franz Kline from whom there are six works from various periods, but no masterpieces. Robert Motherwell also fares poorly, although there is an interesting photograph and preliminary sketch from 1951 proof that Motherwell was working on the Millburn Mural commission at the time. The exhibition hits a home run, however, with its timely selection of works by de Kooning that includes a preliminary drawing for the painting Asheville.

Dorothea Rockbourne was one of the few students at Black Mountain with prior  training, as she had attended her native Montreal’s Ecole des beaux-arts. She arrived in search of a more diverse education and latched on to the only mathematics professor there, Max Dehn, whose basic lessons in geometry and topology had a lasting influence on her career. Her Gradient and Field (1977) –reconstructed for this exhibition-is a sophisticated installation of vellum sheets placed at prescribed levels above and below a vectored horizontal line in such a way as to amplify the divergent fields.

There are some sore omissions and unnecessary inclusions in this exhibition.  It’s hard to justify the absence of Jerry Van de Wiele, for instance, especially when Helen Frankenthaler, who was at Black Mountain for just a week visiting Clement Greenberg and hardly a part of the community, is represented.  Enticed by a letter from his friend the painter Jorge Fick (represented in the show by a selection of late works), Van de Wiele enrolled as a student in September 1954. When classes were suspended during the winter of 1955 he returned to The Art Institute in Chicago where he convinced two friends, Richard Bogart and John Chamberlain (the latter represented by later sculptures) to follow him back in the spring.

There are, however, amazing moments in this show that allow you to look across rooms and down hallways to draw associations, such as when Jack Tworkov’s hefty gestural painting Day Break (1953) is seen through the undulating stainless steel beams and cords of Snelson’s large Easter Monday (1977). Tworkov is also represented by two ink studies for House of the Sun, an important series of paintings the artist began at Black Mountain during the summer of 1952.

Upstairs hang three abstract paintings by Emerson Woelffer, invited to Black Mountain in 1949 at the request of Buckminster Fuller (represented by a large sculpture and two posthumous prints). A group of five collages by Ray Johnson hang next. Johnson was on campus from mid to late 1940s and studied with the likes of Albers, Bolotowski, John Cage, Merce Cunningham, de Kooning, Buckminster Fuller, Richard Lippold, Motherwell, and Charles Olson. His collages, all done later, incorporate and at the same time upend the learning of these historic teachers.

While the College did offer classes in language, anthropology, and science, the arts remained the focus of the curriculum. An impressive selection of rare books by the Black Mountain Poets is assembled in a large vitrine on the second floor on loan from the collection of James Jaffe. The show provides first edition printings of Robert Creeley, Ed Dorn, Fielding Dawson, Charles Olson, M.C. Richards, and Jonathan Williams to name a few. Among the various publications sits the prospectus for the 1951 Summer Institute, which includes a terrific image of one of Black Mountain’s most remarkable dancers, Katherine Litz.

Photography was officially added to the curriculum in the fall of 1949. Hazel Larsen Archer was something of the resident photographer. Her images of a spiky-haired John Cage, a contemplative Willem de Kooning, and Merce Cunningham dancing in an open field (reprints of a few are included in the exhibition) are some of the most historic images of the school. She is credited, among other things, with giving Rauschenberg enough instruction with the camera to let him do with the instrument as he pleased. Archer, along with students in her class, decided to produce the magazine 5 Photographers, showcased here.  Aaron Siskind, a photographer particularly admired among the Abstract Expressionists, arrived in 1951 as faculty. Works from his North Carolina Series (1951) are on view, accompanied by works by Arthur Siegel and Harry Callahan.

A highlight of the exhibition comes with the projection of footage of three early dances by Merce Cunningham:: Septet (1953), Antic Meet (1958) and Story (1963). It is captivating watching Cunningham dance his own choreography and while the footage has been available to Merce Cunningham Dance Company, enabling the company to recreate these historic pieces in detail, this is the first time the footage has been publicly shown. Septet was created during the summer of 1953, the year of the company’s official debut, and is one of the very few dances Cunningham set to music.

Story (1963) features sets and costumes by Rauschenberg, assembled using anything the artist could find outside the door of the theater. This work speaks to the great collaborations that took place at the College, including Cage’s Theater Piece #1 (1952). Created over lunch and performed later the same day, the piece features Cage, Charles Olson, and M.C. Richard reading from ladders while Rauschenberg plays records and Cunningham dances.

Black Mountain College and Its Legacy is an impressive show and a remarkable undertaking considering the many facets of this historic school.  Continuing a streak of themed shows at Loretta Howard that include last year’s Artists at Max’s Kansas City, 1965-1974, the exhibition strives to make connections within the period, although sometimes lacking the tight editing necessary to make such associations more visible. The mystic Ruth Asawa is represented with a single work: an untitled looped wire sculpture from early 1950s hanging overhead. It would have been insightful to see one of Asawa’s later drawings as well in this context.  The exhibition, spread out over two floors, makes for a great treasure hunt, but it’s difficult to experience the true impact of the show in its totality. The catalogue is a bit of a disappointment with some annoying historical errors. Pat Passlof’s name is misspelled. for example, and she followed de Kooning to Black Mountain with the intent of studying with him not Mark Tobey, as recounted here. Chamberlain was never on faculty and was not  present during the summer of 1955.  Bios are included only for the most prominent artists, and poets are left out completely. Even Charles Olson, whose reputation at Black Mountain outstripped his 6’8” frame, isn’t featured. These problems need not detract from the abundance of historic materials, however, that make this a show not to be missed.

RELATED EVENTS / PROGRAMS:

A Black Mountain Poetry Reading
featuring Francine du Plessix Gray, John Yau, Vincent Katz, Maureen Howard and others. Wednesday October 19, 6-8PM

An afternoon with independent curator Jason Andrew, as he discusses his recent exhibition and publication: JACK TWORKOV: Accident of Choice, The Artist at Black Mountain College 1952. Mr. Andrew will discuss Tworkov, his arrival at Black Moutain College and his relationship with John Cage, Merce Cunningham, Fielding Dawson, Jorge Fick, Robert Rauschenberg, Dorothea Rockburne, during one of the most historic summers in the history of the Black Mountain College. Saturday, October 22, 4:00PM

JASON ANDREW is the manager, curator and archivist for the Estate of Jack Tworkov whose recent projects include the publication Jack Tworkov: Accident of Choice, The Artist at Black Mountain College 1952. A prominent figure in the Bushwick art scene, his independent collaborative projects with artists and dancers and others are presented through the Norte Maar company. He is also the co-owner of Storefront, a gallery in Bushwick featuring young talent and revisiting the work of established artists. He can be followed on twitter: jandrewARTS

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Although the formal title of the UBS exhibition is Jack Tworkov:Against Extremes, we find the title of a just published volume of Tworkov’s writings more apt.  The Extreme of the Middle, edited by Mira Schor (Yale University Press) better captures the aesthetic tensions that define Tworkov’s approach.  For him, the extreme middle served as a weigh station for achieving creative solutions to the classic problems in doing abstraction in his time—how to balance,  “external pressures to conform to a particular style, while also fighting an internal battle of self-definition” (Tworkov’s Diaries).  The middle was thus not a position of indecision or tentativeness in the traditional sense.  Rather, it was a strategy to achieve a creative inbetweenness—an art that was not this or that, but this and that—on the way to creating an art that could “overcome all inhibition, to probe all possibilities” (Tworkov Diaries).  This allowed Tworkov to remain on the cusp between order and disorder, a perch from which all was possible.

At issue is Tworkov’s increasing interest in making paintings which, while not primarily an expression of personal concerns and conflicts, are still deeply felt.  On the one side is his increasing use of geometry, a formal move out of synch with Greenbergian aesthetics.  At the same time, he developed a brush stroke that harnessed aspects of the energy of Pollack’s drips.  It is in the middle period where we can best experience the creative tension generated by this approach.  In paintings like Crossfield I (1968) line in the form of a grid creates an order that is subverted by a painterly touch with brush strokes that flow like wind-blown sheets of rain.  Another middle period work, Partitions (1971) is both architectural and lyrical.  Pinkish building-like rectangular structures with triangular tops appear to overlap one another, an illusion achieved by darker green areas made from vertical brush strokes carefully positioned close together.  Upon inspection, there is once more a combination of order and chance, of geometry and energy created from a synthesis of artfully placed brush strokes with their random vertical drips landing on a calm, geometric field.  Since we believe that this was Tworkov’s most innovative and important period, it is unfortunate that there are all too few examples from it in the exhibition.  It is in these paintings that he breaks the shackles of Abstract Expressionism and bends Color Field Painting, Geometric Abstraction, and Minimalism to his own purposes.

The earlier more expressionistic works are more plentiful.  The exhibition includes strong works such as Pink Mississippi (1954), East Barrier (1960) and Thursday (1960) which, while still redolent of expressive self-definition, anticipate the poetry of the formal synthesis between the Apollonian and the Dionysian that he achieved in the Middle Period.  Hence, the trajectory of his paintings through the early, middle, and later work is one where there is a progressive jettisoning of the self in favor of creating a new situation where “the painting is the presence not the painter” (Tworkov, 1981).  All is risked to create increasing harmony among line, color, and painterly texture of surface.

As Tworkov moves from his earliest quasi-representational works such as Still Life with Pitcher and Grapes (1946) to his middle and late abstractions, he progressively moves toward an almost platonic geometry of pure line and color.  For example, the Knight Series from 1975 are transitional works done between the agitated strokes on relatively quiet geometric areas of the Crossfields and the simpler more serene and irregularly shaped forms that followed them in the seven years before his death in 1982.   Knight Series #2(1975) on view here is an exquisite geometric painting in delicate colors which is saved from the danger of being “too pretty” by its strong conceptual underpinnings—the range of moves allowed to the knight in a game of chess.  Tworkov in his last works such asCompression and Expansion of the Square (1982) and Roman XI (1981) achieved a kind of “aesthetic morality” that comes from finally seeing both where he wants to go and having the means stylistically to achieve these ends.   Despite their apparent surface calmness, in many of them there is still a very human hand at work.  A discernable syncopated brush stroke is evident in the most successful of these last cool and controlled abstract fields.

Finally, we cannot neglect to mention the 800 pound gorilla in the exhibition—the question of influence.  As Tworkov readily concedes, early on, he was influenced by Willem de Kooning but such influence was transient and more than compensated for by the fact that unlike painters such as Mark Rothko and Franz Kline he did not ride a single style.  Moreover, there are aspects of Tworkov’s paintings of the early 1950s (cf. Nausica, 1952 and Adagio, 1953, and especially in House of the Sun, 1952) that anticipate the line and palate of de Kooning’s paintings some thirty years later.  Given that they had studios next to one another, it is not surprising that there might have been a mutuality of influence.  Indeed, there is a striking similarity between Tworkov’s House of the Sun Variations (1952) and de Kooning’s Morning: The Springs (1983) that is reproduced in the de Kooning biography by Mark Stevens and Annalyn Swan.

Tworkov was a painter’s painter and a beloved teacher at Yale who took countless chances throughout his career.  Seldom has a better synthesis been achieved among raw power, exquisite color, and the organizing effects of line.  In Tworkov’s best works of all periods, the one constant is his ability to use his superior drawing skills to create a line that explodes with energy while simultaneously keeping disorder at bay.  It is his version of E=mc².

Note: Not to be missed is an exhibition of Tworkov memorabilia assembled at the Archives of American Art’s New York Research Center and Gallery located down the hall from the Tworkov show.

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