I won’t go into how utterly amazing Kerry James Marshall is—and other miraculous truisms—but I did want to slightly obsess and geek out on these white plexiglas frames of his.
@markgodfrey1973 , curator of this tremendous survey
@royalacademyarts , sets up an interesting tension at the end of his intro text to the show—and I’m really roughly paraphrasing here in my jet lagged state!—positioning Marshall in opposition to artists that preceded him and who could rely on chance as a sufficient method (think AbEx, etc.). Marshall, Godfrey asserts, always has a plan. It reminded me of how the genius choreographer and dancer Yvonne Rainer in the 60s and 70s pushed back on chance as a kind of luxury, a mindset that thought, yes, of outcomes but not really of consequences. Seeing these white plexiglas frames on the walls Mark decided to paint blue, red, pistachio, etc., you see the artist asserting his control, maintaining the crisp internal logic of the picture which is his, and creating a synthetic caesura between painted wall and painted world. Art historians love to nerd out on the iconographic ties Marshall uses to bind his works to history—and of course they’re here and Marshall knowing plants references to Manet, Seurat, Homer, Rivera, and on and on everywhere in his practice. But Marshall’s nod here is to Robert Ryman, I think, and how the most rudimentary of the painter’s tools and devices—facture, depth, distance, touch, and, of course, frame—allow the artist to acknowledge what he is and is not in control of. And, by extension, by positioning control and authority as themes in his work, Marshall lets us contemplate what it is we choose to do with the authority—no matter the scale of it—that each of us might have.
#kerryjamesmarshall #royalacademyofarts