Untitled 1963

Here is an untitled painting by John McLaughlin composed of two vertical blocks of color – a muted brick red against a cool, sky blue. I can imagine McLaughlin applying those colours. I can picture him layering on the paint, maybe thinning it down to get these perfectly flat planes, like he’s trying to smooth out the world into pure sensation. What I find fascinating is the dialogue between these two rectangles. The red is warm and earthy, kind of grounding, while that blue seems to recede into the distance like, well, the sky. The texture is smooth, almost like a Rothko, but the hard-edged composition aligns him with other California abstractionists. It’s as if McLaughlin is asking, how little can I do and still make something that vibrates? He gives us just enough, like a Zen koan, leaving so much open for interpretation. It’s a testament to the power of simplicity, a reminder that sometimes less really is more. He's in conversation with other minimalists, each of them trying to pare down to the essential. Painting is like that: an ongoing experiment.