拍品专文
'The graphic language of Twombly remains at all times inimitable. The miracle of Twombly is precisely this manner of writing, of dis-figuring symbols, alphabets and numbers; and of expressing nothing but himself, with a claim of absolute totality, when he accomplishes this revolution of the sign. Expressing nothing but himself, totally - that is the fluctuating rhythm, contradictory, secret and esoteric, of the creative act. Twombly's egocentric sincerity is the sun radiating from his work' (P. Restany, quoted in H. Szeemann, Cy Twombly: Paintings, Works on Paper, Sculpture, exh. cat., Kunsthaus Zürich, Zurich 1987, p. 25).
'Everything happens in that infinitesimal moment in which the wax of his crayon approaches the grain of the paper. The soft wax adheres to the fine asperities of the graphic field and the trace of this leavened flight of bees is what typifies the mark that Twombly leaves... since [a] sense of meaning has been exhausted, and since the paper itself has become what we can justly call the object of desire, drawing can reappear once again, absolved of all technical, expressive or aesthetic function' (R. Barthes, 'Non Multa Sed Multum,'in Y. Lambert (ed.), Cy Twombly: Catalogue raisonné des oeuvres sur papier de Cy Twombly, vol. VI 1973-1976, Milan 1979, pp. 15 and 18).
In this striking example of his unique visual language, Cy Twombly draws together an intoxicating assembly of lyrical lines, forms and bursts of colour to form a visual symphony that rages across the surface of the work. Hard edged lines exerted with frenetic energy intermingle with softer, gentler marks that coalesce to form seemingly recognizable forms. Interspersed with these enigmatic cyphers are a series of more simple structures - squares, circles and crosses - that anchor the rest of the fractured symbols in a perceived sense of reality. Numbers also undergo metamorphosis - the figure '3' multiplies into a series of nodules highlighted by a rare use of chiaroscuro as unrestrained elements float free across the surface of the picture plane. Although resolutely non-figurative, Twombly's lines become cryptograms of a sort, containing a palpable sense of being only a heartbeat away from the recognisable forms that inhabit our physical world. As the artist himself has noted, each line is the present experience of its own inherent history; it explains nothing, but it is the event by which it is given shape. Roland Barthes, in his introduction to the artist's catalogue raisonné of works on paper, observes the palpable sense of excitement as Twombly's marks coalesce on the surface of the page, 'With Twombly,' Barthes says, 'everything happens in that infinitesimal moment in which the wax of his crayon approaches the grain of the paper. The soft wax adheres to the fine asperities of the graphic field and the trace of this leavened flight of bees is what typifies the mark that Twombly leaves' (R. Barthes, 'Non Multa Sed Multum', Y. Lambert (ed.), Cy Twombly: Catalogue raisonné des oeuvres sur papier de Cy Twombly, vol. VI 1973-1976, Milan, 1979, p. 15).
Barthes also highlights the significance that Twombly gave to his chosen support medium, in this case paper. Unlike most artists who used paper as a preparatory medium, Twombly embraced the minute subtleties of the textured surface, and the effect this would have on the progress and appearance of the individuality of his lines. The artist came to regard the choice of paper as fundamental to achieving his desired aesthetic, as Barthes noted, 'since [a] sense of meaning has been exhausted, andsince the paper itself has become what we can justly call the object of desire, drawing can reappear onceagain, absolved of all technical, expressive or aesthetic function' (R. Barthes, op cit, p. 18).
In Untitled, Twombly ensures that his marks are supple enough to convey form, pace, depth and beyond. The origins of this philosophy can be traced back to his first visit to Rome with Robert Rauschenberg in 1953, where he became fascinated with the centuries of graffiti that had been scrawled on the marble surfaces of the Eternal City. After this trip Twombly began to work hard on 'untraining' his hand by practicing free drawing in the dark to allow his hand to create without the intervention of either sight or conscious thought. In his own words, this allowed the artist to 'show things in flux', and to attain physical marks which Roland Barthes once described as the 'hand's desire'. Speaking of this, Twombly described the kind of scribbles that evolved from this practice as a rhythm that conveyed 'the deeply aesthetic sense of eroded or ancient surfaces of time' (C. Twombly, quoted in K. Varnedoe (ed.), Cy Twombly A Retrospective, exh. cat., MoMA, New York 1994, p. 29).
Drawn on the eve of Twombly's first comprehensive museum exhibition in Europe, Untitled marks the moment when the artist's career began to achieve critical and curatorial acclaim. With the support of influential critics such as Pierre Restany (the man who championed Yves Klein's career), Twombly's work began to be celebrated for its radical re-assessment of the most fundamental aspects of artistic expression. As Restany enthused, 'the graphic language of Twombly remains at all times inimitable. The miracle of Twombly is precisely this manner of writing, of dis-figuring symbols, alphabets and numbers; and of expressing nothing but himself, with a claim of absolute totality, when he accomplishes this revolution of the sign. Expressing nothing but himself, totally - that is the fluctuating rhythm, contradictory, secret and esoteric, of the creative act. Twombly's egocentric sincerity is the sun radiating from his work' (P. Restany, quoted in H. Szeemann, Cy Twombly: Paintings, Works on Paper, Sculpture, exh. cat., Kunsthaus Zürich, Zurich 1987, p. 25).
'Everything happens in that infinitesimal moment in which the wax of his crayon approaches the grain of the paper. The soft wax adheres to the fine asperities of the graphic field and the trace of this leavened flight of bees is what typifies the mark that Twombly leaves... since [a] sense of meaning has been exhausted, and since the paper itself has become what we can justly call the object of desire, drawing can reappear once again, absolved of all technical, expressive or aesthetic function' (R. Barthes, 'Non Multa Sed Multum,'in Y. Lambert (ed.), Cy Twombly: Catalogue raisonné des oeuvres sur papier de Cy Twombly, vol. VI 1973-1976, Milan 1979, pp. 15 and 18).
In this striking example of his unique visual language, Cy Twombly draws together an intoxicating assembly of lyrical lines, forms and bursts of colour to form a visual symphony that rages across the surface of the work. Hard edged lines exerted with frenetic energy intermingle with softer, gentler marks that coalesce to form seemingly recognizable forms. Interspersed with these enigmatic cyphers are a series of more simple structures - squares, circles and crosses - that anchor the rest of the fractured symbols in a perceived sense of reality. Numbers also undergo metamorphosis - the figure '3' multiplies into a series of nodules highlighted by a rare use of chiaroscuro as unrestrained elements float free across the surface of the picture plane. Although resolutely non-figurative, Twombly's lines become cryptograms of a sort, containing a palpable sense of being only a heartbeat away from the recognisable forms that inhabit our physical world. As the artist himself has noted, each line is the present experience of its own inherent history; it explains nothing, but it is the event by which it is given shape. Roland Barthes, in his introduction to the artist's catalogue raisonné of works on paper, observes the palpable sense of excitement as Twombly's marks coalesce on the surface of the page, 'With Twombly,' Barthes says, 'everything happens in that infinitesimal moment in which the wax of his crayon approaches the grain of the paper. The soft wax adheres to the fine asperities of the graphic field and the trace of this leavened flight of bees is what typifies the mark that Twombly leaves' (R. Barthes, 'Non Multa Sed Multum', Y. Lambert (ed.), Cy Twombly: Catalogue raisonné des oeuvres sur papier de Cy Twombly, vol. VI 1973-1976, Milan, 1979, p. 15).
Barthes also highlights the significance that Twombly gave to his chosen support medium, in this case paper. Unlike most artists who used paper as a preparatory medium, Twombly embraced the minute subtleties of the textured surface, and the effect this would have on the progress and appearance of the individuality of his lines. The artist came to regard the choice of paper as fundamental to achieving his desired aesthetic, as Barthes noted, 'since [a] sense of meaning has been exhausted, andsince the paper itself has become what we can justly call the object of desire, drawing can reappear onceagain, absolved of all technical, expressive or aesthetic function' (R. Barthes, op cit, p. 18).
In Untitled, Twombly ensures that his marks are supple enough to convey form, pace, depth and beyond. The origins of this philosophy can be traced back to his first visit to Rome with Robert Rauschenberg in 1953, where he became fascinated with the centuries of graffiti that had been scrawled on the marble surfaces of the Eternal City. After this trip Twombly began to work hard on 'untraining' his hand by practicing free drawing in the dark to allow his hand to create without the intervention of either sight or conscious thought. In his own words, this allowed the artist to 'show things in flux', and to attain physical marks which Roland Barthes once described as the 'hand's desire'. Speaking of this, Twombly described the kind of scribbles that evolved from this practice as a rhythm that conveyed 'the deeply aesthetic sense of eroded or ancient surfaces of time' (C. Twombly, quoted in K. Varnedoe (ed.), Cy Twombly A Retrospective, exh. cat., MoMA, New York 1994, p. 29).
Drawn on the eve of Twombly's first comprehensive museum exhibition in Europe, Untitled marks the moment when the artist's career began to achieve critical and curatorial acclaim. With the support of influential critics such as Pierre Restany (the man who championed Yves Klein's career), Twombly's work began to be celebrated for its radical re-assessment of the most fundamental aspects of artistic expression. As Restany enthused, 'the graphic language of Twombly remains at all times inimitable. The miracle of Twombly is precisely this manner of writing, of dis-figuring symbols, alphabets and numbers; and of expressing nothing but himself, with a claim of absolute totality, when he accomplishes this revolution of the sign. Expressing nothing but himself, totally - that is the fluctuating rhythm, contradictory, secret and esoteric, of the creative act. Twombly's egocentric sincerity is the sun radiating from his work' (P. Restany, quoted in H. Szeemann, Cy Twombly: Paintings, Works on Paper, Sculpture, exh. cat., Kunsthaus Zürich, Zurich 1987, p. 25).