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Joan Jonas, Guillermo Kuitca, Amy Sillman, and Michael Singer answered our call. De laatste Nederlandse tentoonstelling van de Amerikaanse kunstenaar Susan Rothenberg was in 2017 bij galerie Grimm in Amsterdam. The artists we were visiting were truly epic. In the Times profile, Glueck described the intuitive process Rothenberg underwent to conjure such images. Susan Rothenberg. I googled Susan Rothenberg tonight in order to wrap my mind around her work and her person again. This was her private space, where she had the freedom to lose herself and produce without scrutiny. The vocabulary was Romanesque: animal parts, body parts, holes, heads, hooves, hips, tongues, fingers, mouths, knuckles, crotches, the curvature of limbs, dancing, card games, dancing with Mondrian, ravens, blighted trees, things that are somewhat ravaged, somewhat in motion, but laying around, or discovered, like stuff gleaned in fields. Amy Sillman, Guillermo Kuitca, Joan Jonas, Michael Singer, Kathy Halbreich, Christophe Cherix, Michelle Kuo, Executive Director, Robert Rauschenberg Foundation, The Robert Lehman Foundation Chief Curator of Drawings and Prints, The Marlene Hess Curator of Painting and Sculpture, Remembering Abstract Pioneer Jack Youngerman (1926–2020). Daarna volgden solotentoonstellingen in tal van belangrijke Amerikaanse musea die haar werk opnamen in hun collecties. She wheeled in a large suitcase on a skateboard; it remains among my possessions. The thing I liked most was how kind of medieval they were, flat, or in low relief, like fields and the stuff gleaners find in them. That worked, manual surface, all that stroking, laying down and scraping off, scumbling, molding, to get to those nuggets of image. The canvases feature odd perspectival shifts that cause her images to appear as though they were seen from above and from the side simultaneously. Obedience? No horizon: actually it’s a space that signals both expansiveness and claustrophobia, because everything there has to be touched to be understood. Below the well-worked surface of her canvases lurked a critique of the systems of authority that were responsible for public monuments celebrating a victorious general on his faithful steed. Sean Anderson, Christophe Cherix, Rattanamol Singh Johal, Glenn D. Lowry, Sarah Suzuki. I only heard about her, and I didn’t hear anything that would make me want to go try to meet her. Seeing Susan’s next show, at the Willard Gallery in 1976, made me a little itchy. A world and a way to get through it. By visiting our website or transacting with us, you agree to this. I was surprised because I always thought of Susan firmly holding her place in space just as she held her own in an argument. A cause of death was not immediately provided. Daar toonde ze grote schilderijen, waar ledematen en dieren herkenbaar waren in ruwe verfvlakken. But through even the vague suggestion of figures, Rothenberg was able to create memorable images that tease the brain and tickle the eye. 41. Dichterbij bevindt haar werk zich in de collectie van het Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam, dat haar al vroeg opmerkte en in 1982 een solotentoonstelling van haar werk bracht. Non-art activities occupy a lot of their time. Soon after the Guggenheim exhibit, I left the city and moved to a remote area of Vermont. Susan was working on what would be her last exhibition, and showed us the paintings scattered throughout her studio. I learned a lot about what it meant to be a “real” human being from both of them: how it was possible as a mother to pursue a life in the arts, how to be generous but in no way saccharine or sentimental, how to show up even on those days when nothing got defined or chaos reigned, and how to stay close to the things you loved and that gave meaning to your life. Please. (283.8 x 375 cm). While her “why,” appropriately, allowed for more questions than answers, the work still threw off an air of intellectual assurance. Dinsdag overleed Susan Rothenberg op 75-jarige leeftijd. Susan and I spent long hours discussing our and others’ work, sharing ideas. She became a fervent champion of my work, just as I was of Susan and her newfound love of painting. The paintings that have long defined Rothenberg’s career are works featuring horses. A total no-go! In October of the same year, the Daily News ran a headline, “Ford to City: Drop Dead in 1975.” New York City was going broke and you had to be tough to survive and to find a community. I’m just a painter.”. In 1970, 112 Greene Street opened. I did write her a letter about a year ago, telling her that she was a big hero of mine, and she wrote me back. Dat lukte. I also collect stones and she found some for me. I still treasure these fossil-like objects, especially two small round rusted iron balls she gave me. They were soon joined by Kathy Halbreich, director of the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation, and MoMA curator Michelle Kuo. The artist reimagines Alfred H. Barr’s “Cubism and Abstract Art” diagram. Rothenberg’s reputation would continue to be dominated by the impact of the horse paintings. We should never forget that. Last year, I was lucky to join Angela Westwater as she visited Susan Rothenberg and Bruce Nauman at their ranch in Galisteo, New Mexico. I also recall the Thursday evenings we spent with dancers and artists, helping to develop some of Yvonne Rainer’s work at her place on Green Street. About feelings? Susan spoke about one painting in particular. ... Susan Rothenberg (American, 1945–2020). Nauman gets up at seven each morning to feed his fourteen horses, which he breeds, raises, trains, and sells.”. The horse paintings provided a delayed pleasure accompanied by a sting; almost everything I knew about painting looked different from these canvases and, consequently, I had to begin learning all over again. Confronted with cartoon-like imagery that flirted with humor— something that was not generally appreciated as a sign of serious art—I remember being perplexed. Her paintings, many of which feature just the barest outlines of forms against largely monochromatic backgrounds, provide low-key thrills. This is not just one of Susan’s many wonderful paintings—it’s also one of the most surprising moments in art. Another featured a figure rendered in childlike scrawls—a Buddhist monk, the title reveals—whose arms appear to be violently duplicating. I asked her to work with me. I still smile when recalling Susan’s arrival at my converted studio. Surrounded by the natural world, I found the expression that had become elusive in the urban environment of lower Manhattan. Those were turbulent times, and Susan, in fighting for her way forward, was at least unconsciously mocking the drained heroics that shaped so many of decade’s political and artistic leaders. Send us a tip using our anonymous form. 1977, Susan and I met in 1963, as freshmen in Cornell’s Fine Arts Program. Yet it’s not the shape of her body, nor her face. What they were was a purposeful and slightly loony exegesis on the possibilities of painting at a time when attention had shifted away from the expressionist hand of the painter towards a manufactured minimalism. Susan had rescued several dogs and she was devoted to them. For me, there is no doubt that this is the piece being played in her painting. After the horses, Rothenberg moved on to painting disembodied heads and hands. After graduating from Cornell University in Ithaca in 1967, she went to the Corcoran School of Art but left after two weeks. To find out more, including which third-party cookies we place and how to manage cookies, see our privacy policy. Susan did this every day. Susan and Elizabeth, along with many other women artists, just continued to go about their business, making bits and pieces of their emotional life as physically and formally convincing and inventive as possible. I last saw Susan at the opening of Bruce’s second retrospective at MoMA in October, 2018; she told me she hadn’t been well, and she did indeed seem tiny. She referred to the woman in the painting as a “pianist playing Schubert.” She said that she had watched her on YouTube. They are not so much pictures of something as they are things themselves, always on the verge of being dismantled: leaps into the void, traces of an unknowable loss. Copyright © 2020 Penske Business Media, LLC. “I almost feel I can take the most banal subject matter and [make] a good painting out of it,” the artist said in a 1984 New York Times profile by Grace Glueck. These two women shared a lot and were generous in sharing it with other female artists: a fearless pursuit of imagery that speaks unapologetically of care, a brave willingness to pursue tenderness as the loaded brush hit the canvas, and tenacity even though they often were forgotten when attention-grabbing international exhibitions of cigar-smoking men were being organized in Europe.

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