Dimensions: sheet: 27.78 × 21.43 cm (10 15/16 × 8 7/16 in.)
Copyright: National Gallery of Art: CC0 1.0
Editor: This is an Untitled graphite drawing by Frank Stella, created in 1973. It has a stark, minimalist feel, dominated by layered geometric forms. It reminds me a little of folded paper, or perhaps building blocks. How do you interpret this work? Curator: Well, immediately, I think about Stella's project to blow up painting altogether. He questioned painting’s illusions, pushing towards pure objecthood. We're in the realm of high modernism now. Does this piece even try to seduce you? Not really! You've got a deliberately flattened space, lines that feel tentative, almost instructional. But there is some feeling of…longing here, no? As though behind this calculated objectivity there’s something tender at stake. Editor: That makes sense. I see the ‘instructional’ aspect and the minimalist framework. But a sense of tenderness is fascinating, I never considered that, what evokes that for you? Curator: Perhaps it's in the slight imperfection of the lines themselves. See how they waver, how the corners aren't quite sharp? Stella allows his own hand, his own imperfection into the supposedly "perfect" geometric shapes, creating this emotional pull with it’s starkness and lack of pretension. That simple act creates a sense of vulnerability. Editor: Wow, I can totally see that now. The imperfections humanize it, adding that unexpected emotional layer. Curator: Exactly. It is like that old song: "It's not the things you say but how you say them…" Perhaps this drawing speaks not of forms, but about how a form can be touched. Editor: This has opened my eyes to the possibilities of Minimalism—I see so much more here than I did just a few moments ago. Curator: And for me, seeing your interpretation brings its stark poetry to the forefront once more.
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