Small White Drift 1978

Curator: Let's consider Warren Rohrer’s "Small White Drift," executed in 1978, and exemplary of the artist’s sustained investigation of material and process, especially his dedication to acrylic paint and abstraction. Editor: Well, "drift" certainly fits. It has that weightless, ethereal quality, like the lightest fog you see just before sunrise. It makes me want to breathe deeply. Curator: Rohrer’s method involved layering thin washes of color. We might consider how this accumulation, this build-up of material, produces the sensation you describe. Note too, the social context of Abstract Expressionism here: its making rejects more commercial styles of the time. Editor: Yes! And look closer – the gentle striations hint at hidden depths, as if something lies just beneath the surface. The repeated strokes, for me, evokes memory and time’s gentle mark on things. Do you find the grid to be intentionally there? It reminds me of fields or even of woven cloth. Curator: The repetitive gestures absolutely highlight the labor inherent in the making process. The almost imperceptible grid, as you noted, does recall farmland, fitting Rohrer's Pennsylvania roots and challenging that classic separation of labor and the refined, elevated art object. He made this using common materials that could have easily been used for other projects. Editor: I can definitely appreciate that tension. I also see such subtlety! The longer I look, the more nuances I observe, little shifts and color modulations emerge as being essential, integral aspects of the process. It’s a lesson in perception, I believe. Curator: It seems the piece, like Rohrer himself, existed in liminal spaces. Its processes, materials and subtle textures draw on industrial means, while the aesthetic effect points toward personal contemplation, challenging high and low cultural spheres, even after the age of its making. Editor: Agreed. Looking at this "Small White Drift," you realize how much can be said with so little. There's an undeniable beauty and also something inherently optimistic, almost spiritual within those delicate layers. I do love art’s endless possibilities for conversation.