For the past week, I’ve studied Jennifer Bartlett’s work. Bartlett (b. 1941) is a painter from the West Coast. She is what they call a “grid” painter. While that may sound orderly and simple, Bartlett’s work is anything but. On top of the grids, Bartlett plays and rebels.
When I say “grid” painter, think Agnes Martin or Sol Lewitt. Not quite minimalist but certainly pertains to order and reason. Rhapsody (1975-76), which is now housed at the Museum of Modern Art in New York, is made up of 987 steel plates. Taking up the walls of the large room, Rhapsody rings around and immerses you in what is best described as the “mind in action” (Roberta Smith). Motifs (a house, a tree, a mountain, and the ocean), elements (circles, squares, and triangles), and color repeat themselves creating a sense of order and control. The connection and movement between the objects in each piece, however, makes the series feel quick and disorderly.
It’s beautiful, systematic… and it doesn’t quite make sense. It’s joyful… yet meditative.
Grid paintings provide an opportunity to create an structured visual language. Such a language sounds incredibly desirable. I enjoy how Bartlett seems to find solace in the grid format but then challenges and wrestles against its structure. Her paintings are guided by “fuzzy logic”.
Photography plays a role in her work. She usually uses her camera to create source material which references as she paints. Photography also influences how she presents her work. She presents her work as projects or series. That is very much a characteristic of contemporary photography.
AIR: 24 Hours is Barlett’s most defined and “organized” series. It is a group of 24 paintings, one for each hour of the day. She was systematic in its production. Each hour she used an entire roll of film and photographed the space around her. She then chose one negative from every roll to be the foundation of each painting. She placed varying grids with 60 units on each painting and then got to work.
Very methodical, right? Yet, her paintings are surprising and illogical. Once that foundation was set, she freed herself to describe time and location by way of tempo, light, and disposition. Each painting is a puzzle that doesn’t quite make sense.
I enjoy her In the Garden series the most. Frustrated by her surroundings, Bartlett turned around and mastered the place she inhabited. She made drawing after drawing and painting after painting. It was a meditation of sorts.
Wind, 1983
oil on canvas
84 x 300 in
My favorite piece is Wind (1983). I sense that time is moving slowly while the wind urgently pushes and whooshes. A mood is a very present. Her work captures time against place. Pool (1983) plays with point of view as well. It brings the viewer into the painting.
Pool, 1983
oil on canvas, triptych
84 x 180 in
Then there are her houses. The house, referred to simply, is a common motif for Bartlett. She deconstructs and reconstructs it over and over again. She keeps the object’s shape simple but demonstrates its potential to be an infinite number of things by changing various elements.
Falcon Avenue, Seaside Walk, Dwight Street, Jarvis Street, Greene Street, 1976
enamel over silkscreen grid on baked enamel steel plates
51 x 259 in
Whitney Museum of American Art, New York
131 Greene Street / Patmos, 1977
enamel over 126 silkscreen gridded baked enamel steel plates
90 x 233 inches
The house is a symbol for many things, most obviously a home. The motif carries weight. In these works, the house is central. Maybe it alludes to childhood and the role childhood homes play throughout our lives. Or, it could refer to your current home… affecting your outlook right now. Or, it could refer to the house that is your body… you could keep going, no? It’s malleable. However, the house’s role is undoubtedly significant. Bartlett’s paintings help me remember that.