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拍品專文
“In this series of works about choosing, a participant was asked to choose from a larger group of like things (e.g., a pile of [turnips], any three for whatever reasons he or she might have at the moment. The three chosen [turnips] were then placed upon a surface to be photographed. The artist then chose one for whatever reasons he might have had at the moment. A photograph was taken of the selection process. The chosen [turnip] was then carried over; the two other [turnips] not chosen were discarded, and two new [turnips] were added. A new selection process began anew and so on. Each of the participants develops strategies unknown to the other player as the selection process continues until all the [turnips] are used”—John Baldessari (J. Baldessari, quoted in “Artist’s Statements,” R. Dean and P. Pardo (eds.), John Baldessari Catalogue Raisonné, vol. 1, 2012, p. 377).
In both the content and process of his art, Twombly has been interested in the juxtaposition of time and history, of painting and drawing, perfectly blending seemingly contradictory concepts. Twombly moved to Rome in 1957 and drew inspiration from the city throughout his career. His work in the 1960s directly referenced his immediate surroundings and marked the beginning of his distinctive style made of powerful lines across the paper.
During his years in Italy, he managed to combine European heritage with aspects of Abstract Expressionism from America. But he also went further by including pencil and scribbled words into his works, and by mixing graffiti-like gestures and an erudite allusion to Western history. Triumph of Galatea is in this regard very telling as a direct homage to Raphael’s fresco of the nymph Galatea in the Villa Farnesina in Rome. While Raphael used a helical torsion to give a sense of movement and emotional depth to his characters, Twombly drew spirals in a nervous movement. As a result, Triumph of Galatea displays the unique raw energy that infused many of the artist’s most celebrated works. These lines convey uncertainty, unknown and perpetual change and therefore create tension between the expected linearity and the vivid movement of the composition. Fleshy pink and sensual shapes seem to emerge from the concentrated turbulence of the drawing to balance this feeling of insecurity. Moreover, two geometrical forms on the right upper and lower corner hold the composition steady.
In Twombly’s works, lines are not a means but rather an end in themselves; they are the sensation of their own realization. Twombly changes our art vocabulary by presenting handwriting as a process disconnected to an aim. By getting rid of the meaning behind writing, Twombly presents the essence of it, which is pure gesture. He presents a movement and invites the viewer to review and follow his movement. By doing so, he abolishes the distinction between cause and effect. Triumph of Galatea is a work to consider in retrospect: a continual change, a constant becoming.
Twombly disposes of conventions and blurs the line that separates arts and media with his own. He is dissolving distinction between words and pictures, between writing and drawing, between pictorial forms and subject matter. By referencing handwriting and writing words on the paper, the artist is able to suggest subtle narratives that lay beneath the surfaces of his paintings; but by never letting the viewer grasp a full narrative coherence, Twombly prevents his spectators from exhausting the content of his work and invites them to reflect on what the language of art really means.
In both the content and process of his art, Twombly has been interested in the juxtaposition of time and history, of painting and drawing, perfectly blending seemingly contradictory concepts. Twombly moved to Rome in 1957 and drew inspiration from the city throughout his career. His work in the 1960s directly referenced his immediate surroundings and marked the beginning of his distinctive style made of powerful lines across the paper.
During his years in Italy, he managed to combine European heritage with aspects of Abstract Expressionism from America. But he also went further by including pencil and scribbled words into his works, and by mixing graffiti-like gestures and an erudite allusion to Western history. Triumph of Galatea is in this regard very telling as a direct homage to Raphael’s fresco of the nymph Galatea in the Villa Farnesina in Rome. While Raphael used a helical torsion to give a sense of movement and emotional depth to his characters, Twombly drew spirals in a nervous movement. As a result, Triumph of Galatea displays the unique raw energy that infused many of the artist’s most celebrated works. These lines convey uncertainty, unknown and perpetual change and therefore create tension between the expected linearity and the vivid movement of the composition. Fleshy pink and sensual shapes seem to emerge from the concentrated turbulence of the drawing to balance this feeling of insecurity. Moreover, two geometrical forms on the right upper and lower corner hold the composition steady.
In Twombly’s works, lines are not a means but rather an end in themselves; they are the sensation of their own realization. Twombly changes our art vocabulary by presenting handwriting as a process disconnected to an aim. By getting rid of the meaning behind writing, Twombly presents the essence of it, which is pure gesture. He presents a movement and invites the viewer to review and follow his movement. By doing so, he abolishes the distinction between cause and effect. Triumph of Galatea is a work to consider in retrospect: a continual change, a constant becoming.
Twombly disposes of conventions and blurs the line that separates arts and media with his own. He is dissolving distinction between words and pictures, between writing and drawing, between pictorial forms and subject matter. By referencing handwriting and writing words on the paper, the artist is able to suggest subtle narratives that lay beneath the surfaces of his paintings; but by never letting the viewer grasp a full narrative coherence, Twombly prevents his spectators from exhausting the content of his work and invites them to reflect on what the language of art really means.