Window 1969

Curator: At first glance, this looks like pure, unadulterated serenity. Just a big, luminous square floating there. It’s calming, isn’t it? Like a visual sigh. Editor: It certainly evokes a certain tranquility. We are looking at "Window," a 1969 resin sculpture by Peter Alexander. It's representative of the Light and Space movement that thrived in Southern California during that time. Curator: Ah, California. Makes sense. It does feel like bottled sunshine. What strikes me is the way it plays with perception. Is it solid? Is it light? Is it reflecting something? The whole thing is so...shifty. Editor: Alexander was particularly interested in capturing and manipulating light. He uses resin to create these translucent forms, playing with how light passes through them and interacts with their surfaces. He's known for this. Curator: Resin, eh? I bet that feels incredible to touch. Almost like a frozen pool of light, right? But that’s typical for that whole LA scene. This kind of hard-edge thing is something the museums lapped up as properly and safely "modern" at the time. Editor: There was a market for it. That’s certainly a consideration. These works occupied this interesting place where painting and sculpture met. "Window," being relatively immaterial, forces the viewer to focus on the phenomenological experience. Curator: Phenomenological, fancy! I just know it makes me feel lighter somehow. Less…stuck. Does that count? Editor: It absolutely counts. I mean that's arguably part of the point. These works weren't so much about telling a story as providing a sensory encounter, a pause. Curator: And in our noisy, hectic world, a pause is pretty radical. Thank you for putting a name and era to the sunshine-square. Editor: My pleasure. Art history can help ground personal responses but the piece belongs to anyone engaging with it today.