This
essay was originally printed in the catalogue of the same title
published by the Oakland Museum of Art, Oakland, CA, and accompanied
the Ronald Davis restrospective held in 1976.
In
the sixties, Ronald Davis seemed the paradigm of the formalist painter.
Now, with ten years perspective, it appears that he has been concerned
with a multiplicity of influences Surrealism, Du Champ, Pop
Art, as well as the more usually acknowledged modernist tradition
(Cubism, Abstract Expressionism, Minimalism, etc.).1 As
a result, a radically different interpretation of his work is evolving.
Almost
from the start, Davis' paintings were ambitious and displayed an
awareness of diverse contemporary trends. Tapestry, 1962,
a work he did while a student at the San Francisco Art Institute,
shows Clyfford Still's pervasive influence: thick, dark layers of
oil paint, vigorously applied to large, rectangular canvases. And
early works like Ball Point Pen, 1964 and Roll Your Own
(Zig Zag), 1964, both painted with acrylics, have all the hard
edged zappiness and optical play of Op Art while displaying evidence
of visionary surrealism, a la Robert Hudson and William Wiley, so
prominent in the Bay Area at that time. Further, the linear design
patterns were derived from such diverse sources as Byzantine mosaics,
Persian miniatures, Paul Klee, late Kandinsky, and even Scientific
American illustrations and advertising billboards.2
More
importantly, Davis internalized these influences and adapted them
to his own ends – a process seen here in a yet unrealized state.
For the first time, he put forth the idea of a painting as a depiction
of an object. Moreover, the painting is beginning to be shaped to
the contour of the object depicted, so that Roll Your Own (an
isometric view of a cylinder) is elliptical and Ball Point Pen (in
part a sphere) is circular. Following Clyfford Still's example, Davis
orders color in space by layering one on top of another. In later
works, like Spoke, 1968, Single Sawtooth, 1971, and
several of his "cubes," Davis uses Still-like tears and
holes which reveal the field underneath, thus establishing their
relative placement in space. Unlike Still, Davis avoids figure-ground
ambiguity, opting instead for a stable, clearly defined spatial placement
... a critical distinction that differentiates him from fifties Abstract
Expressionism.
By
early 1965, Davis had moved to Los Angeles, where he became friends
with the painters David Novros, Paul Morgenson, and William Pettet,
and the sculptors Judy Chicago and Lloyd Hamrol (who were doing minimal
sculpture at the time). In the mid-sixties, being avant-garde was
a major concern to Davis and his friends. Frank Stella, whose "V" series
of paintings Davis saw at the Ferus Gallery, Los Angeles, in 1965,
was considered the key painter to deal with; and the important issues
were thought to be monochromatic painting, shaped painting, series
painting, and the idea of a painting as an object. Davis' initial
response was a series of eight monochromatic, shaped paintings on
four-inch-thick stretcher bars (e.g., Large Red, l965) done
during the summer of 1965 and exhibited that fall in the Nicholas
Wilder Art Gallery, Los Angeles. These paintings were a methodical
working-out of the various possibilities: the shapes consisted of
a square, rectilinear planes viewed isometrically (i.e., parallelograms),
and rectangles seen in one-point perspective (i.e., trapezoids).
The color was equally logical: the three primaries, three secondaries,
and black and white. Nothing appeared arbitrary everything
was controlled, systematic, ordered. These works were far more than
Stella's without the stripes. Originally conceived as minimal sculptures,
they radically changed to become paintings of sculptures; and the
idea of painting as an illusion of an object took a firm hold.
At
this point, Davis began a long process of technical and artistic
innovation and refinement. In works like Ultramarine, 1966
(still a rectilinear plane), and Green Skew, 1966 (one of
a series derived from a nine-section plane with two or three sections
removed), he employed two-point perspective in order to make the
illusion more convincing and the ideas more clear. (The planes were
mistakenly divided into equal portions a drawing error that
somewhat negates the perspective illusion). Influenced by the techniques
of Billy Al Bengston and especially William Pettet, whose monochromatic
paintings he admired, Davis tried spraying his canvases with paint,
rather than rolling the paint on as he had done previously, to achieve
a more chromatically varied surface. However, the paintings were
very time-consuming to make, because in order to achieve the smooth
surface he desired, it was necessary to apply up to ten coats of
paint, carefully sanding each one. As a result, Davis began to search
for a smooth, hard surface which would not be so difficult and tedious
to work with, and experimented with molded plastic.
Living
in Los Angeles meant easy access to plastic technology. The production
of fiberglass automobiles, boats, and surfboards had become a booming
industry, and several sculptors (including Terry O'Shea, Ron Cooper,
and Robert Morris, whose fiberglass minimal sculptures he saw at
the Dwan Gallery, Los Angeles, in 1966) used these processes in their
art. Davis first attempted to apply resin to canvas in order to seal
it like a gesso; but that still left pock marks which needed to be
sanded in order to achieve a smooth surface. Next, he tried eliminating
the canvas and substituting fiberglass as a support for the sprayed
paint (e.g., Small Tray, 1965), but that also needed sanding;
moreover, commercially available fiberglass sheets came in widths
no more than thirty-six inches, making it impossible to create large
paintings without seams.
Finally,
after obtaining a book on how to make fiberglass boats and cars,
Davis developed the technique of painting with colored resin a
process he continued to employ in substantially the same form until
the spring of 1972, when he returned to canvas and acrylic paints.
In addition to providing a smooth, hard surface, resin affirmed the
painting as an object; the paint and ground were the same substance
and, therefore, as in staining oil on canvas, were on the same surface
plane.
The first
resin paintings of this type, including No-Ninths Violet,
1966, Six-Ninths Red, 1966, and nine other paintings, were
exhibited at the Tibor de Nagy Gallery, New York, in 1966. They are
seminal not merely because of their new process; more importantly,
because the illusion is no longer of a two-dimensional rectilinear
plane but is of a three-dimensional object a slab.
Eleven
Colors, 1967, one of the best of the early resin paintings,
clearly illustrates the way Davis relates to Stella and other contemporary
artists. Like Stella's paintings, Eleven Colors is a logical
ordering of parallel light and dark stripes which echo the shape
of the painting; but rather than repeating the literal framing
edge, Davis' paintings echo the edge of the depicted object (in
this case a thick slab with a quarter section removed). It is a
tribute to Davis' skill that one readily accepts the edges of the
illusion as the real, literal edges of the painting.3 The
result is a painting with the compelling immediacy of a real object
and much of the bold, aggressive, single-image impact of Pop Art.
One should note, however, that the immediacy of Eleven Colors and
most of Davis' other works, is pictorial whereas the immediacy
of objects is literal. Davis underscores this effect by employing
a literally impossible point of view. That is, the viewer would
have to be much farther away than he actually is in order to see
the painting in its proper perspective. The result is a disorientation
and an impression of closeness that is quite disconcerting.
Having
established a tight perspective structure, Davis became freer in
his use of color. Dodecagon, 1968, an excitingly bold and
clear statement, is a relatively rectangular and therefore, neutral
shape. As a result, colors are al lowed to interrelate freely since
they are not locked tightly in place. Zodiac, 1969, which
resembles Dodecagon in format, is even looser, and structure
and shape dominate color even less. Zodiac's segments
are experienced more as backgrounds or color fields than as distinct,
solid shapes; and, as with Jackson Pollock's all-over drip paintings,
the biomorphic, Abstract Expressionist forms defy figuration. One
is encouraged to skim over the surface of the painting rather than
examine its composition piece by piece because the optical interaction
of complementary colors and the "all-over" rhythmic play
of biomorphic configurations hinder any attempt to focus on any one
incident. Moreover, the colored drips in Zodiac are perceived as
applied to, but distinct from, the depicted object in much the same
way paint is perceived on sculpture. Consequently, color does not
delineate or deter mine shape, nor does shape determine or contain
color. Rather, shape seems to exist on its own, and color is free
to advance and recede freely in space.
But
only up to a point! The painting is free and spontaneous only within
controlled limits. The perspective grid still holds the configurations
in check, placing them firmly in space by attaching them to an easily
grasped illusion of an object. And the configurations themselves, upon
closer examination, are carefully drawn and contained within each segment.
Some times puddles, even drips, change hue as they cross a border not
some thing easily accomplished without a great deal of control. This
carefully controlled spontaneity, a studied casualness, adds another
expressive element to Davis' painting, sometimes evoking a surrealist
mood.
The
paintings gradually became more painterly, more involved with color,
and less locked into a closed, orderly structure until a conclusion
of sorts was reached in work exhibited in the fall of 1971 at the Pasadena
Art Museum. These paintings (e.g., Diagonal Rectangle XV, 1971)
revived the rectilinear plane that Davis had dealt with as early as
1965 in Diamond Lock. They were flatter, more frontal
and allowed for more push-pull color relationships than any of his
previous work. These were nearly the last resin paintings Davis made
(the last ones were painted in May, 1972) before returning to acrylic
on canvas; and, for a period of about six months beginning in June,
1972, he did not paint at all. Most of this period was spent building
and adjusting to a new studio the planning of which had
begun as early as the winter of 1969-1970.
The
studio a spectacular five-thousand-square-foot trapezoidal
structure was a collaborative effort with his friend, the
architect Frank Gehry. Inspired by some resin sculptures Davis made
in 1971 and 1972 (never publicly exhibited) and a hay barn and auditorium
that Gehry had designed earlier, the architect and artist conceived
the studio as a large cube seen in two-point perspective.4 The
resulting structure is quite eccentric: the roof slopes from thirty
feet to ten feet and the walls converge from ninety feet to forty-five
feet. The immense interior space was awesome and intimidating for
a painter of Davis' sensibilities, and the precious, pristine condition
made it difficult for him to bang a nail into a wall. Davis withdrew
to a small corner room to paint; but most of the time he spent alone,
adjusting to his new surroundings and composing music on an elaborate
Buchla synthesizer.5
This
was a period of psychological, physical, and artistic withdrawal,
a state expressively revealed in the paintings: small, hard-edged,
rigidly aligned geometric objects, compulsively self-contained by
up to four or five internal frames. Color relationships were established
according to pre-determined ratios of light to shadow; and a scientifically
controlled color system6 was used to insure the utmost precision
in value gradations. Unlike his earlier shaped paintings, which use
the wall as a background and therefore depend on neutral surroundings
(light switches, wall paper, paneling, etc., all be come part of
the painting and disturb the illusion), these rectangular paintings
provide their own backgrounds. The results are airless, hauntingly
still worlds reminiscent of De Chirico.
By
the summer of 1974, Davis was not only adjusted to his new environment
but was exhilarated by it. In response, the new paintings were enormous
some over fourteen feet loosely painted, as extroverted as his resin
paintings, and, although still containing geometric bodies in a perspective
structure, as open and airy as landscapes. On an atmospheric, stained
back ground, painted with great freedom and spontaneity, Davis plotted
a network of fuzzy-edged grids (only implied in the earlier paintings)
which determined the perspective structure, the source of light,
and the shadows cast. In the best paintings, the geometric bodies
and their shadows seem to be organically integrated with;their! ambiance;
and decoration, rather than appearing to be applied to the structure,
seems to evolve out of it. The large scale, bold illusionism, lush
color and glowing light make these the most exuberant, rich and unabashedly
lyrical paintings in Davis' oeuvre.
At
the same time, the "all-over" grids, the translucency of
the geometric bodies, the general monochromatic tonality, and the high
point of view which eliminates a horizon line, give the works a sameness
of surface, a homogeneity, that merges figure and ground, thereby unifying
the work into a whole very much in the Modernist tradition.
1 In
1962, Davis saw an "L" shaped painting by Frank Stella
and was told by a friend that it was Pop
Art and the "L" was taken from a series of paintings
which spelled out Stella's name.
2 This
and similar information used in this essay was conveyed to me in
a series of interviews
with
the artist conducted in May and June, 1976.
3 See
Michael Fried's essay, RONALD DAVIS: Surface and Illusion ARTFORUM ,
April, 1967.
4 On
Davis' studio, see Paul Goldberger, "Studied Slapdash," The
New York Times Magazine,
January
18,1976, pp. 48-50.
5 The
music began as an experiment in creating space through the location
of sound and
gradually
became more complex technically and musically.
6 A
vinyl-acrylic copolymer paint manufactured for animators by Cartoon
Colour Co. Davis
continues
to use this paint and color system in his current work.
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