Comments on: Donna Gustafson: Erasure is a Point Between Absence and Presence

By: Wes Sherman

Wes Sherman — Tue, 18 Dec 2012 19:45:34 +0000

What a great show Art=Text=Art. I have walked through it many times now and I often come away from it thinking about the “hanger” that de Kooning referred to when asked about his use of the figure and how he justified it as an abstract expressionist. The figure was just something to hang the paint on. The question, how does erasure measure against mark making seems to set up a dualistic argument, one thing against another. The erased mark can’t exist without the mark, the mark is the “hanger” on which the erasing exist. I read the relationship between the mark and the erasure as the inhale and exhale of mark making. Each relying on the other to express a thought in action.
As a viewer I experience these marks as insight into how an object should be unpacked. They allow me to understand the intent of the artist and therefore help in revealing the object. This helps a great deal when looking at a Cy Twombly painting, he uses the erasure and mark combo to lead the viewer to the main point, often something related to a landscape.
As an artist, the act of erasing and mark making create a give and take as I search for clarity in the compositions I am painting. It give a rhythm to to the act of painting and drawing like one might find in any physical act. Thinking of the give and take of these marks I’m reminded of the way Thomas Nozkowski or Brice Marden make paintings. Both make marks, then erase them, and then rediscover something more inline with their projected outcome for the painting at hand. I have often think of this process of erasure and mark making as a ritual and metaphor; death, burial, and resurrection.
How does it measure, this ritual or rhythm of erasing and marks? It is the rich heritage that is our modern narrative, it is democratic. It is the marks needed to put the viewer in dialog with the artist. This kind of mark making allows and image to not be top down as an object (artist leading the view like a parent guides a child), but ask the viewer to enter into a conversation equally, bring something other than their gaze to the dialog. The eraser/mark is how the artist allows the viewer to enter into the conversation and provides ways to discovering hidden thoughts, reconstruct narratives, and complete images.

By: Donna Gustafson

Donna Gustafson — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 19:56:24 +0000

Mistakes are how we grow; I think that accepting mistakes as part of the process is an interesting lesson to learn from this discussion–something I hadn’t thought about before. I like thinking of artists as people who embrace mistakes or are they inarticulate expressions that develop into something else. The idea of changing, of moving ahead, of adding time and the context of rethinking things is all important here, I think.

By: Donna Gustafson

Donna Gustafson — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 19:56:24 +0000

I agree that the difference between erased and covered up is of great interest and that it is a significant difference. The idea of covering up, of veiling a previous thought, but making it clear that there is something underneath adds nuance and texture (so to speak) to what you see. Paul Klee once said that ‘art makes the invisible visible’, but what I find especially interesting is keeping the visible somewhat invisible. and you do that by covering it up, masking it, or erasing it just enough so that you know something was there. Time and process are especially key elements in understanding and appreciating these works.

By: Kate Scott

Kate Scott — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 18:27:20 +0000

One of the things I find intriguing about these works is that while many involve erasure in the traditional sense (the attempt at removing the original marks, such as with a pencil eraser), others, such as Stefana McClure’s works, obscure images or text by covering them up with new layers of mark-making. In the end, none of them are legible in themselves, but a new composite image has been made. This is similar to the photographs of Hiroshi Sugimoto, who has created extended exposures of entire films in theaters (resulting in images of empty rooms with eerily glowing white screens) and of ocean waves (which produces two smooth, abstract rectangular blurs–sea and sky). It is exciting how this kind of erasure fits with the earlier discussion of charts and graphs. Like a chart of tidal movements, Sugimoto’s photos and McClure’s layering of film subtitles collect a vast amount of information over an extended period of time, and then present it to the viewer in a single instant, on a single sheet of paper. The obvious difference is that unlike a chart, these works offer not a translation but an entirely new form.

By: Kate Mitchell

Kate Mitchell — Wed, 12 Dec 2012 00:45:56 +0000

Erasing, one would assume, takes away from the piece, whether it be a drawing or draft. However, assumptions are often invalid. The artist intends for you to see that crossings out and erased marks are just as important, if not more so, than the marks that were intentionally placed. Things can never truly be erased, every “mistake” we make haunts our existence. No matter how we try to cover up or hide our mistakes, they still remain, because we as humans are fallible; an inescapable fate. We can try as we might but perfection is a shallow goal, and it is unattainable. So if anything, these attempts to erase our past mistakes, whether it be in life or in art, define us. However we choose to try erasing our pasts, demonstrates who we are. Some will cross out their mistakes with bitterness and fury, while others will frantically scramble to erase all evidence; even more will chose to ignore it, and perhaps one person will embrace it. The significance of Elena de Rivero’s letter (seen above) is that she half reveals her mistakes. She does admit to making them, but in her attempts to cross out the words in gold, she prevents us from seeing the damage. Further stressing that humanity is corruptible; no human is willing to embrace and accept all their mistakes.