Bed 1955

Robert Rauschenberg made this piece, Bed, by collaging fabric and applying paint. It’s like the whole thing is erupting. There’s a tension between the lower register of regular geometric shapes that form the quilt, and the more turbulent explosion of colors, paint drips, and torn fabric, above. You get the feeling that the artist was wrestling with the materials, trying to get them to do something they didn't want to do. Look how the white paint runs down the material, almost obscuring the quilt pattern beneath. Is it defacing it, or adding to it? I'm reminded of Cy Twombly in this, in the way that meaning is built up through a layering of marks and gestures. The work revels in its own messiness, in the sense of the artist's hand—or body, even—being present in the work. It's almost performative, like we can see the artist struggling with the materials right there on the canvas. What to keep, what to throw away.