Untitled 1966

Kuno Gonschior’s untitled work is a field of visual sensation made up of countless tiny dots of color. It’s all about the process here, right? Up close, you can see the way that tiny dots of white and red hover over the vibrant green field. The paint isn't thick, it’s more like a veil, an optical shimmer that invites you into a space of pure perception. The physical act of applying each dot, one by one, must have been a meditative act. The marks are so small, and the gesture so controlled, it’s easy to get lost in the minutiae of each one. Look at how the density of the red and white dots concentrates toward the center, creating a subtle gradient that gives the painting depth and volume. This reminds me a little of Agnes Martin's subtle grids, or maybe even the pointillist landscapes of Seurat. But where those artists sought a kind of optical precision, Gonschior seems more interested in the way color can vibrate and hum. Ultimately, it’s a reminder that art is about exploration, a continuous dialogue between artists across time and space.