White Plaque. Bridge Arch and Reflection 1955

Editor: This is Ellsworth Kelly’s *White Plaque. Bridge Arch and Reflection* from 1955, an oil on canvas. It's… surprisingly calming. The stark white is so minimal, but the two semi-circles give it a strange sense of balance. What strikes you most about this piece? Curator: Calm, yes, I see that. It reminds me of a cloud hanging just so low you might almost reach out and rearrange its form. It also has this incredible confidence, doesn’t it? Knowing *exactly* how little you need to say to still sing loud. It's Kelly paring things back to almost nothing… like the very whisper of a visual idea. Do you get a sense of space when you look at it? Editor: I can see that; it’s incredibly stripped down. But space? I’m not sure. I see flatness, almost like a sign or a…well, a plaque! Curator: Interesting! Maybe that flatness is the space – an open expanse, like a pristine field of snow, waiting to be marked. The bridge, if you can find it in your imagination, doesn’t really go anywhere, does it? It begins and ends right there on the plaque. It almost mocks our desire for function and destination. What is your take on that very subtle line across the middle? Editor: It divides it, but also… it anchors it. Without that line, wouldn't it just float away? Become *too* minimal? Curator: Exactly! Like a horizon line keeping us grounded. That's Kelly’s genius. The suggestion is almost more powerful than the explicit form. Did he name it that because he knew what a can of worms of art critics he was opening for the next seventy years to talk about the “bridge,” the arch” and the reflection”? Editor: Maybe! It's definitely got me thinking about how much a simple shape can communicate, or, even, conceal. Curator: Absolutely! The beauty is in what you, as the viewer, bring to it, to the bare, naked shape. It has the same essence as a poem, really. I come out different for having thought about that today. Editor: Me too. Minimalism seems a lot more complex now!