JB My own childhood was dark and mysterious. I’ve yet to achieve one of these goals.ĮM Why did you feel that way? You turned me on to Lawrence Durrell. At Mills I picked up L’Etrangerby Camus, and my course was determined: art had to be dark, spare and serious. Eliot, Stephen Crane, Nancy Drew, Hendrik Van Loon, a book on color theory. Dostoevsky, The Alexandria Quartet, True Confessions magazine, Seventeen magazine, the Oz books, T. JB Anything that had nothing to do with Long Beach, California. I thought it would be possible for me to do that. My mother had one art book at home, with Cézanne, Picasso, Van Gogh, Manet. I had little exposure to art but knew I was going to be a painter. JB In high school I went to see a Van Gogh show at the Los Angeles Museum it knocked me out. Your painting was little, in grays and blacks, and it looked. I’d drawn constantly since childhood: large drawings of every creature alive in the ocean Spanish missions with Indians camping in the foreground, in the background Spanish men throwing cowhides over a cliff to a waiting ship hundreds of Cinderellas on five-by-eight pads, all alike but with varying hair color and dresses.ĮM I remember one painting from your Mills college days you were very proud of it. Jennifer Bartlett Being an artist, Ed Bartlett, Bach cello suites, Cézanne, getting into graduate school, getting to New York, Albert Camus, James Joyce.
What were you thinking about in the fall of 1962? I remember the first time I set eyes on you: we passed each other on the road, and you looked at me with a quizzical, curious expression and then walked on by with your fuzzy beehive hairdo. You were a senior and I was a first-year graduate student. What follows is an oral history of sorts, of two painters’ progress.Įlizabeth Murray I met you in the fall of 1962, at Mills College, in Oakland, California. In their long association as peers and as friends, Bartlett and Murray have occupied parallel worlds they have watched each other’s work develop over 30 years. More recently, a particular narrative has evolved-contained in traditional stretched canvas-a cumulative transformation of combines that hints at a darker, perhaps imperfect world, where nightmares melt into cartoon dreams, referencing Gorky’s influence.
Her paintings with three-dimensional objects have reinvented the mural. James Frey's My Friend Leonardby Marc JosephĪimee Bender's Willful Creaturesby Melissa SandorĪdam Curtis's The Power of Nightmaresby Linda Hoaglandīartlett has used the serialization of geometric forms, familiar objects that recall the ideal American homescape-a house, a tree, a white picket fence-along with literal painterly shapes, a line or a brush stroke, to create paintings of incremental, seemingly endless possibility. Give My Regards to Eighth Street: Collected Writings of Morton Feldmanby Victoria Miguel Stephen Vitiello's Buffalo Bass Delayby Paul PfeifferĮri Morita's Home Drama and Stuart O'Sullivan's How Beautiful This Place Can Beby Allen FrameĪndrew Benjamin's Disclosing Spaces: On Paintingby Saul Ostrow Chroniques de L'Algérie Amère Algérie 1985–2002by Anouar Benmalek
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