Canto VI 1963 - 1964

Curator: Here we have Barnett Newman’s "Canto VI", part of a series he began in the early 1960s, using lithography to explore stark contrasts. Editor: Initially, it feels like a visual haiku—a dark expanse punctuated by that single, emphatic vertical line. It's so minimal, yet so… present. Curator: The "zip," as he called it—that vertical line—is a recurring motif, acting here almost as a primal division, a gesture towards the sublime. Editor: Absolutely. It reminds me of ancient boundary markers, standing stones, or even a glyph hinting at the division between worlds, or between the self and the void. The texture of the zip is so raw. Curator: He was fascinated by the power of simple forms to evoke profound emotions, and this interplay between darkness and light feels deeply meditative. Editor: It does. It makes you wonder what Newman wanted us to project onto that darkness, what myths or memories we carry within ourselves. Curator: A space for contemplation, wouldn't you say? Editor: Precisely, a prompt for the internal monologue.