Pavo 1968

Curator: Here we have Dan Christensen’s "Pavo," painted in 1968, an acrylic on canvas work. Editor: Well, right off the bat, it reminds me of watching figure skaters tracing loops on fresh ice. There’s this sense of rhythm and effortless movement, even though it's static, captured in these blurred lines. Curator: That's an interesting take. Christensen was associated with the Colour Field movement, you know, a kind of evolution of Abstract Expressionism. They aimed for these pure fields of color, divorced from narrative, focusing on the raw sensation of seeing. Editor: Colour Field… right. But the blurriness here is throwing me off a little. It feels almost unfinished, or like a dream slipping away. Is that intentional? Is he trying to represent ephemerality? Curator: Well, Christensen utilized a spray gun technique, which allowed for those soft, diffused edges. The canvas itself becomes almost like a screen onto which light and color are projected. This avoids sharp delineations that invite direct analysis, opting instead for something more atmospheric. Editor: Atmospheric, yes, but there's also a deliberate chaos here. The way the colours overlap and intersect creates a visual tension that's quite stimulating. Reminds me of the peacock after which this piece is named. Curator: “Pavo” is the genus name for peacocks. So what might initially seem random is actually governed by his impulse to generate an affect reminiscent of their fan of colorful plumes. One can detect some organization and layering after spending time with the work. Editor: I guess my skater analogy only goes so far! But this kind of chromatic looping gives you so much to process—it teases your senses. It avoids closure, always hinting at new patterns just beyond your grasp. I imagine it shifts a little every time I glance at it. Curator: Exactly! And isn’t that precisely what art should do? Avoid settling into any one narrative. "Pavo" is a journey in seeing, more than an object to be seen. Editor: It feels almost daringly hopeful. After spending a couple of minutes observing it, I have to admit I find this sense of free form a compelling take on representing, and more importantly *feeling* life’s energy.