Canto II 1964

Barnett Newman made this print, Canto II, sometime around 1963, and what strikes me is how this seemingly simple image holds so much tension between the black ground and that single blue vertical. Looking at the texture, you can almost feel the grain of the paper, with the black ink sitting right on top. It's not absorbed, which gives it a sort of velvety richness. Then there's that vertical line, a cool blue, slightly off-center, dividing the space. It's not perfect; you can see the little wobbles and inconsistencies in its edges, revealing the hand that guided it. This “zip” or stripe is so iconic to Newman’s practice – it’s almost like it's breathing. Newman's work always reminds me a bit of Ad Reinhardt's, especially in their shared interest in reduction and the sublime. But where Reinhardt goes almost to total blackness, Newman lets that blue sing out, creating a dynamic relationship, a conversation, that’s so full of possibility. It's about holding two seemingly opposing forces in perfect balance, a reminder that art is never about answers, but about asking the right questions.