Primpsofair 1995

Stanley Boxer conjured ‘Primpsofair’ with thick paint, pushing and pulling it across the surface. I see hints of light blues, yellows, and grays—like a landscape emerging from a dream. I imagine Boxer in his studio, wrestling with the canvas. He adds layer upon layer, each stroke a decision, an argument, a resolution. Did he step back, squint, tilt his head, and then lunge forward again, adding more? Maybe he scraped away what was already there, creating those rough edges and surprising textures. Look at the way the light catches the gold—it feels like a secret whispered in the painting. It is almost as if he is talking to other painters, gesturing to Guston, maybe, or even Rothko, those other masters of color and feeling. Painting is like that: a big, messy conversation across time. It embraces the unexpected, the unresolved, the sheer joy of making something new.