
Juan Melé
Marco recortado n.º 2 [Irregular Frame No. 2], 1946
Oil on masonite, 27 15/16 x 18 1/8 x 1 in.
Colección Patricia Phelps de Cisneros, 1997.102
“The Geometry of Hope: Latin American Abstract Art From the Patricia Phelps de Cisneros Collection,” at the Grey Art Gallery at New York University; reviewed by Robert Smith, NY Times:
Our notions of the origins of shaped paintings are readjusted by “Irregular Frame No. 2,” a distorted grid in shades of green, blue, rust and yellow made startlingly early, as these things go, by the Argentine artist Juan Melé in 1946. In this flamboyant little work geometry turns blunt, in advance of Minimalism, and cartoonishly savvy, in advance (and somewhat contradictorily) of the abstract painter Elizabeth Murray.
The following was written for the catalog for Alan Ebnother's exhibition at Wade Wilson Art, Houston, March 2007, but in the end was not used. I'm using it here. I also interviewed Alan for Minus Space in 2005.
"Green is Good"
The subject of a recent email from Alan Ebnother is "Green." The rest of the email simply reads, "Is Good." That was it. Good for what? For Alan; for me; for painting? I don’t’ know, it’s just good. I can’t argue with that. Green is.
But when I say, "green,' which green do you see? Cabbage, broccoli, chard, or lime? Mint, pistachio, rosemary, or pear? Moss, iguana, malachite, or pine? Traffic light, crocodile, seaweed, or seafoam? We each can think of our own "greens."
I have a catalogue that lists over fifty different green pigments ranging from pale green-yellow earth to grassy brilliance, from the lushest emerald to dry, dark, mold-like powder. These pigments are clean dirt, crushed rock, and ground mineral from around the world with various physical qualities. A pigment is not just color; each results in a paint which is dense or smooth, fine or coarse, opaque or transparent.
Once Alan mentioned, "people who first come to the desert and say that there is no vegetation or wildlife.
On closer observation the desert opens itself to their vision and a complete world of plant and animal life becomes apparent."
An artist looks for territory and sets to work exploring it, figuring out what is there and responding and adjusting to what he is finding. Each painting has its own qualities, and every painting is new. The artist finds what he is making only by doing it. The painter wants to bring components of the painting into place, and the materials work for and against that force.
Dylan Thomas’ poem that begins, "The force that through the green fuse drives the flower | Drives my green rage; that blasts the roots of trees | Is my destroyer," reminds us of the power and energy in things that are green, and that even growth is cyclical and eventually destructive.
Green has many possible meanings. Green symbolically represents the "Anahata," the fourth, or the heart/emotions, chakra related to love, equilibrium, and well-being. In our times, being green means engaging in renewable and sustainable consumption. Green is used in night vision goggles because the human eye discerns the greatest variety of shades of that color. Often, green means "go," yet is also the color of envy, poison, and radioactivity. Color enters memory, perhaps imperfectly, and despite being incredibly elusive can still resonate specifically, prompting associations tied to emotion, time, and place.
The meaning of an art work, the kind that is explained verbally, is overrated. We clamor to understand, but a painting is not a package to be unwrapped with words and consumed only intellectually. Tidy explanations are for the impatient and incurious, and typically miss the point. A painting is like a corner of the desert, a complete world for the viewer to experience. The painting is the fuse, our interaction with it is the force, and our understanding is the flower.
Once, Alan made a green painting, and then another and another, and he simply followed his own progression of experiences using different green pigments, different brushes, different supports and sizes. He staked his claim and committed to exploring it. Twenty six years later, he hasn’t run out of green or territory.
Chris Ashley
Oakland, CA
January 2007
Above: Alan Ebnother, "December 20, 2006", Oil and pigment on linen, h: 36 x w: 36 in / h: 91.4 x w: 91.4 cm, Wade Wilson Art