.jpg?w=1)
拍品專文
I regard the relationship between painting, sculpture and architecture, considered as a synthesis, as being of two kinds. That of free forms functioning as complimentary and activating forces. That of complete integration whereby all three factors abandon their particular identity and unite as a single operation (V. Pasmore, 'Connections Between Painting Sculpture and Architecture’, Zodiac No. 1, Brussels, 1957).
Executed in 1967 Linear Composition inhabits the space somewhere between the traditionally separate disciplines of painting, sculpture and architecture. Unlike the early 1930s white abstracts of Ben Nicholson, that are reductive in conception and beautiful in their purity, Pasmore compels the viewer to consciously acknowledge the materials that he has chosen to use, through the process of gravure to the roughly surfaced white composite board, emphasised by the contrasting smoothness of the white formica and carefully painted black dissections. The asymmetrical, yet perfectly balanced composition, requires the onlooker to breakdown and analyse this process of production by both man and machine. As a consequence we perceive it, not as a pure picture but as a pure object.
This objectification of the work of art, moving it away from the illusory and into a physical space, has its roots in the writings of the American artist Charles Biederman. He believed that the space that the work of art inhabited was integral to the piece itself and in 1951 Pasmore began to explore this idea through his relief constructions, combining Perspex, glass and painted wood to create objects that changed in appearance through the external influences of light and habitat. This investigation into the relationship between the work of art and the onlooker led Pasmore to collaborate with Richard Hamilton in their 1957 ICA show, An Exhibit. Visitors were compelled to wonder through a maze of hanging compositions, immersing themselves, quite literally, in the work of art or instillation. About this, Pasmore wrote ‘abstract painting, being tied to area, cannot define space; only imply it. The technique to define, rather than imply, space in abstract demands a technique which is free both of mass (sculpture) and surface (painting)’ (V. Pasmore, Statements, London, ICA, 1957). The title itself for the show alluded to the concept that the work of art was a sum of its parts and not an exhibition of individual pieces. A true collaboration in which it was impossible to distinguish the work of Hamilton from Pasmore due to the anonymity of the materials. The use of modern, mass produced machine materials in order to create this truly new abstract art. A new art using new technologies to reflect a new time.
In 1966, the year of Pasmore’s major retrospective at the Tate, he and his wife Wendy, bought a dilapidated farmhouse on the island of Malta. Pasmore’s subsequent move there marked a change of direction in his work and he was to comment that ‘I’m returning to paint as I can grow with it further’ (C. Spencer, Victor Pasmore, 'The Homecoming to Paint', Studio International, vol. 167, no. 854, June 1964, p. 2270). However, the late 1960s saw Pasmore produce a series of linear constructions which are some of his most pure and assured works. The present piece contains a confidence and playfulness rarely seen in the earlier constructions. The gravure lines take on an organic unpredictability barely contained within the rough chipboard square that in turn floats on the clean, smooth surface of the formica, all boxed in the deep wooden frame. Linear Construction 1967 fulfils Pasmore’s quest to create a genuinely new constructed abstraction while hinting at the more biological and fluid forms of the paintings that he would subsequently produce in Malta.
Executed in 1967 Linear Composition inhabits the space somewhere between the traditionally separate disciplines of painting, sculpture and architecture. Unlike the early 1930s white abstracts of Ben Nicholson, that are reductive in conception and beautiful in their purity, Pasmore compels the viewer to consciously acknowledge the materials that he has chosen to use, through the process of gravure to the roughly surfaced white composite board, emphasised by the contrasting smoothness of the white formica and carefully painted black dissections. The asymmetrical, yet perfectly balanced composition, requires the onlooker to breakdown and analyse this process of production by both man and machine. As a consequence we perceive it, not as a pure picture but as a pure object.
This objectification of the work of art, moving it away from the illusory and into a physical space, has its roots in the writings of the American artist Charles Biederman. He believed that the space that the work of art inhabited was integral to the piece itself and in 1951 Pasmore began to explore this idea through his relief constructions, combining Perspex, glass and painted wood to create objects that changed in appearance through the external influences of light and habitat. This investigation into the relationship between the work of art and the onlooker led Pasmore to collaborate with Richard Hamilton in their 1957 ICA show, An Exhibit. Visitors were compelled to wonder through a maze of hanging compositions, immersing themselves, quite literally, in the work of art or instillation. About this, Pasmore wrote ‘abstract painting, being tied to area, cannot define space; only imply it. The technique to define, rather than imply, space in abstract demands a technique which is free both of mass (sculpture) and surface (painting)’ (V. Pasmore, Statements, London, ICA, 1957). The title itself for the show alluded to the concept that the work of art was a sum of its parts and not an exhibition of individual pieces. A true collaboration in which it was impossible to distinguish the work of Hamilton from Pasmore due to the anonymity of the materials. The use of modern, mass produced machine materials in order to create this truly new abstract art. A new art using new technologies to reflect a new time.
In 1966, the year of Pasmore’s major retrospective at the Tate, he and his wife Wendy, bought a dilapidated farmhouse on the island of Malta. Pasmore’s subsequent move there marked a change of direction in his work and he was to comment that ‘I’m returning to paint as I can grow with it further’ (C. Spencer, Victor Pasmore, 'The Homecoming to Paint', Studio International, vol. 167, no. 854, June 1964, p. 2270). However, the late 1960s saw Pasmore produce a series of linear constructions which are some of his most pure and assured works. The present piece contains a confidence and playfulness rarely seen in the earlier constructions. The gravure lines take on an organic unpredictability barely contained within the rough chipboard square that in turn floats on the clean, smooth surface of the formica, all boxed in the deep wooden frame. Linear Construction 1967 fulfils Pasmore’s quest to create a genuinely new constructed abstraction while hinting at the more biological and fluid forms of the paintings that he would subsequently produce in Malta.