Squiggly Brushstrokes (Olive) 1996

Curator: Here we have Sol LeWitt's "Squiggly Brushstrokes (Olive)" from 1996, an acrylic on canvas. It's a tightly packed field of meandering lines in various colors. Editor: Wow, that's... intense! It's like looking into a psychedelic topographical map. What strikes me is how insistently handmade it feels, despite LeWitt's reputation. Curator: Absolutely. Though celebrated for his conceptualism and serial structures, this painting emphasizes the physical act of creation. Think about the sheer labor involved in laying down each individual line. The way these marks are created reveals something deeper than geometry, right? Editor: Yes, there's a kind of repetitive rhythm—a choreography almost—suggested by the build-up of layers. One wonders how much thought went into color selection. Did he painstakingly choose which colour would come next in the application? Also, are there any hidden production rules? Curator: Probably less than you think, which adds to the organic, slightly chaotic feel. LeWitt's process, while often systematic, wasn't devoid of spontaneity. He embraces accident to reveal the work. These squiggles, however, look deceptively easy to produce. In fact, that kind of mark is incredibly difficult to do right! Editor: Right! It invites consideration of value, too. Acrylic paint enables vivid colors and layering, so there's the cost of those materials, plus LeWitt's own labor, plus any studio assistants if they were involved in the mark making... The production aspect contrasts sharply with how many people see LeWitt’s austere geometric works. Curator: Exactly! The materiality challenges the cool intellectualism often attributed to Minimalism. It reveals a warmth. Something more playful. This is why "Squiggly Brushstrokes" stays with you—it transcends its ostensible simplicity. Editor: Yes, beyond just simple execution and into an understanding that the human touch can persist even when hidden beneath supposed systems and concepts. It almost reads like landscape painting when examined from a distance. Curator: A landscape that's purely emotional perhaps! It offers this quiet sense of joy at being able to be free enough, or to even liberate oneself enough, to pick up a paintbrush and do such thing. Editor: An unexpectedly complex testament to the joy and physical labor inherent in making art, then. Curator: A perfect little labyrinth for the eyes to roam around in.