Untitled 1973

Rodolfo Arico made this painting with some kind of pink dye, maybe even watered down acrylic or gouache, and probably more than one brush. Imagine him bent over a table or easel, mixing those blushy tones, maybe a little frustrated with the way the paint keeps bleeding into the canvas, but then giving in, letting it do its thing. There’s a kind of awkward geometry happening in the painting that I find appealing, as if he's thinking about color fields, but also about raw edges and dripping stains. The paint is thin, soaked right into the fabric, so the texture of the canvas becomes part of the image. See those diagonal gestures, how they bleed? It’s like he’s exploring how a simple gesture can communicate a whole range of feelings. I like to think about all artists in conversation with each other across time and space. It’s this constant exchange of ideas that keeps things interesting, this willingness to embrace uncertainty, and to find new ways of seeing.