AccessMyLibrary provides FREE access to over 30 million articles from top publications available through your library.
Create a link to this page
Copy and paste this link tag into your Web page or blog:
I was one of those people unself-consciously entranced by the Modern's 1993 Robert Ryman retrospective. Yes, its extremism was almost comical: having restricted his palette to white since the early sixties, he filled the museum's galleries with what seemed like countless monochrome variations, which, in the Minimalist mode, called attention to gestural marks, the materiality of the canvas and surface, the shape of the support, and at times the means by which a work attached to the wall. His microscopy might have entailed more than a little quixotic insanity, but the sonata-like sweep of the show had what I felt to be an undeniable beauty. Still, by its end, he seemed to ...