Where the Water Goes 1989

James Rosenquist made this print, "Where the Water Goes," and it feels like a space-age kitchen sink drama, all colliding planes and splashy textures. I imagine Rosenquist piecing it together, one layer at a time, like a collage in hyperdrive. The faucet and drain feel so solid and metallic against the black background, and the explosion of pink and orange at the bottom seems totally out of place and yet completely essential. I wonder if Rosenquist was thinking about advertising, maybe a detergent ad gone haywire? Look at the way he combines sharp lines with fuzzy gradients; it’s a real push-and-pull between precision and chaos. It reminds me of some of the Pop Art experiments, but with a darker, more surreal twist. It's like he's saying, "Here’s your everyday reality, now let’s blow it to bits and see what happens." Painting, at its best, is about taking risks like that, messing things up and finding something new in the wreckage.