Yellow Line Painting 1973

Ronnie Landfield’s painting blooms with colour, a hopeful, sunny yellow, supporting a garden of playful marks. I can picture the artist’s hand moving, almost meditative, laying down these vertical lines in lilacs, greens, and oranges. Each one is unique, a little wonky, bearing the imprint of human touch. It reminds me of being in the studio, that dance between intention and accident, how one stroke leads to the next. What was he thinking when he made it? I imagine he was in a good mood, maybe listening to music, trying to capture a feeling more than a scene. Look closely, and you’ll see how thin the paint is, almost watercolor-like in places, allowing the yellow ground to peek through. And that one rebellious green line that veers off to the right—I love when paintings do that! Landfield is part of this amazing lineage of colour field painters, like Helen Frankenthaler or Jules Olitski, who were all about pushing the boundaries of abstraction, making paintings that are less about representation and more about pure sensation. It’s like they’re saying, "Hey, let’s just revel in the joy of colour and form." And who am I to argue with that?