Untitled 1963

Editor: So, this is John McLaughlin’s "Untitled" from 1963. It’s a striking piece of geometric abstraction, really simple with just black and white. There’s something quite powerful in its starkness... almost meditative. What do you make of it? Curator: The historical context is key. In the early 60s, you have a rising tide of minimalism. Artists were reacting against the expressive chaos of Abstract Expressionism, and the increasing commercialism of Pop Art. McLaughlin’s hard-edge painting embodies a different kind of rebellion. Do you see it? Editor: I see the simplification, definitely. It's almost... reductive? Curator: Precisely. And think about the gallery space in which this would have been displayed. Vast, white walls intended to allow viewers a supposedly ‘objective’ experience. But objectivity itself is a political statement, isn't it? What is the implicit public function of a gallery, do you think? Editor: To legitimize, I suppose? To confer value and present certain narratives about what constitutes ‘art’ with a capital ‘A’? Curator: Exactly. McLaughlin's work participates in and subtly questions that very process. It offers seemingly nothing but pure form, demanding the viewer confront their own preconceived notions of art, of value, and of the institution itself. Editor: It makes you think about what you're *not* seeing. How this piece relates to power. It’s so stripped down, but now I realize it speaks volumes about the art world then—and even now. Curator: Indeed. Its continued resonance lies in that enduring tension. Editor: Thanks, it's a totally different piece to me now.