Two very different Minimalist exhibitions are wrapping up this week in New York, from masters of their respective rivulets, Doug Wheeler and Ad Reinhardt. Both reveal the meticulous complexity that goes into creating something deceptively simple. They have radically varying styles and approaches, but both reach for the sublime.
David Zwirner’s 20th Street location is hosting both shows. The 84-year-old Light and Space pioneer Wheeler’s dreamlike installation “Day Night Day” occupies the ground floor. “Print—Painting—Maquette,” which primarily explores Reinhardt’s late-period printmaking, is on the floor above. Both exhibitions close on October 19. Although the shows are unrelated, they forge such a fluid, accidental dialogue that they feel interconnected. They offer a welcome antidote to the unbearable strife of the news cycle— Reinhardt’s abstractions are serene and cerebral, while Wheeler provides an immersive, otherworldly experience.
Visitors must don protective disposable booties over their shoes to not scuff the pristine matte and gloss white floors of the installation component of Wheeler’s exhibition, “DN ND WD 180 EN – NY 24” Four visitors are allowed in at a time for two-and-a-half-minute intervals, and the waitlist fills up, so come early. Photos and videos are also not allowed. Viewers enter a room with two faintly glowing rectangular walls. I was initially chuffed and satisfied just by this sole component, until a gallery staffer explained that I could walk through it.
The wall’s illusory solidity is so palpable it triggers a confusing split second of fear as you trepidatiously step into it and enter a heavenly void where you are surrounded by limitless, luminous space. It’s a transcendent experience, and one that can’t be captured in any of the corny, high-tech experiential exhibitions currently proliferating. Upon exiting the celestial afterlife void, be sure to hang a left to see the artist’s intricate drawings detailing the plans for the work, gorgeous ink and graphite schematics.
There are also plenty of preparatory studies at Reinhardt’s “Print-Painting-Maquette,” one flight up. The abstract Minimalist (1913–67) has always been an artist both buoyed and stymied by his subtlety—when it comes to photographing his work, the nuances of his chromatic explorations are lost. Those “black” monochromes might read as just one murky, matte shade in a photo, but they encompass a rich, inky world of various hues and almost subliminal patterns.
The exhibition was curated by Jeffrey Weiss, formerly curator and head of Modern and contemporary art at the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., and organized in collaboration with the Ad Reinhardt Foundation. The 1966 screenprints attest to “his interest in translating the subtleties of his painted work into the print medium,” according to press materials. It’s revelatory to see his diagrams for the prints, based on earlier paintings. This is the first show devoted to these prints, but the various small paintings also included are a more magnetic, visceral draw, creating an intriguing counterpoint to the main focus.
Taken in together, the shows are an intriguing journey into light and darkness.
Source: Exhibition - news.artnet.com