Untitled (New York City)Artwork Factory
The dryness of the dark gray picture looks like a slate, its size resembles that of a school blackboard. On it are irregular white lines and light-gray splashes of color. The lines in “Untitled (New York City)” run directly from the left to the right edge of the picture. Each single stroke registers that the artist has walked along the canvas, and how. We can see when he slows down, when the pressure of the chalk eases or intensifies, how short interruptions during the stride create kinks and loops, and how the lines approach each other, touch, and diverge again.
Cy Twombly studied in the urban jungle of New York. Although well connected in the art scene, his initial success as a young artist started to wane. After some soul-searching he embarked on a new beginning. He consciously tried to forget what he learned at New York University and to let his hands work independently of his mind, thus bringing the element of
chance into art. Scrawls, illegible handwriting, shaky patterns and wobbly lines like these result in compositions full of tension.
Does something of the artist’s body remain in his work?
How much expression does a line have?
Cy strode the length of the canvas again and again from left to right, brushing over the entire surface of the painting and leaving a trace.
Can we read interruptions, speed and regularity of movement in the lines? Twitching, stumbling, body tension?