Arielle 1978

Editor: So, this is Ronnie Landfield's "Arielle" from 1978. It's an acrylic on canvas. It feels… dreamlike to me, with these hazy bands of color. Very serene, almost like a memory of a landscape. What stands out to you in this piece? Curator: Ah, yes, Ronnie. "Arielle" whispers rather than shouts, doesn't it? It reminds me of trying to capture a sunset afterglow on film - impossible, of course, yet that yearning… I feel that in the bands of color. Tell me, Editor, does that lower band of intense orange ground you, or does it jar you a little? Editor: It definitely grounds me, it feels very solid and certain. Whereas the rest seems much more fluid, changing. Why is that grounding necessary, do you think? Curator: Perhaps it's Landfield reminding us that even the most ethereal of experiences has a root somewhere. Like love, maybe, or loss. Color Field painting often walks this tightrope – pushing towards the sublime while tethering itself to something tangible. It invites a dialogue within oneself, about what it is that ties us down, what is it we cling to? Editor: I see what you mean. It's like the orange bar is the earth, and the other colours are the sky just after sunset. I feel as if Landfield captures how colors linger in our memories long after the event. Curator: Beautifully put! And I wonder, what remains when we subtract specificity and hone down a feeling. To look, but to look *inward*. The artist provides that bridge to deeper self reflection. I may even venture out and buy some of these tones myself to repaint my living room this next month! Editor: It’s given me a lot to think about. Thank you!