Untitled (Blue Vertical Lines) 1963

Editor: This is John McLaughlin’s *Untitled (Blue Vertical Lines)* from 1963. It’s deceptively simple—two blue rectangles set against a dark background. I find it incredibly serene, almost meditative. What do you see in this piece? Curator: The austerity of forms and limited palette act as powerful signifiers. The blue, consider its cultural memory. Is it sky, water, divinity, royalty? How does the interplay between the rectangles and the void evoke a psychological space, a liminal zone? Are we looking at windows, portals, or barriers? Editor: Windows perhaps, but to where? The abstraction makes it hard to pinpoint a specific image or meaning. Is that the point? Curator: Exactly! It pushes us to question our ingrained visual habits. Think of Carl Jung’s ideas about archetypes—universal symbols embedded in our collective unconscious. Could these simple forms be echoing something deeper within us? Perhaps these forms reveal universal concepts, and they are devoid of symbolism? Editor: So, the rectangles could be anything or nothing, but their arrangement sparks something subconscious? That's fascinating. It reminds me a bit of Barnett Newman's zips, but with more…stillness. Curator: Precisely. And this stillness speaks volumes. Minimalism, like much abstract art, serves as a visual rebellion against representation, urging us to engage with the very essence of form and color. These are powerful carriers of cultural, emotional, and even spiritual weight. Do you see it? Editor: I think so. The reduction encourages projection and contemplation simultaneously. I went from thinking it was just a basic painting, but now I see how loaded such simplicity can be. Curator: It invites personal interpretation and a recognition of the symbols already embedded in our minds. Editor: I’ll definitely look at minimalist art differently now. Thanks!