Breaking and Entering

By Barry Schwabsky

This article appeared in the June 18, 2007 edition of The Nation.

May 31, 2007

The artist and musician Laurie Anderson, ostensibly reminiscing about her friend Gordon Matta-Clark's style as a conversationalist, handily summarized his work as an artist: "He really liked fragments.... He was a deconstructionist; his approach was to pull things apart. And I think when you pull things apart you can really see what's there." Matta-Clark is the subject of an exhibition at the Whitney Museum of American Art (through June 3; the show then travels to the Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art). You'll find lots of fragments there, sometimes in the bluntest, most literal way--for instance, pieces of walls and floors sliced out of their architectural contexts and quite simply standing there in all their raw vulnerability--but often pieced together into new and complex wholes.

More important than the fragments, though, are the spaces left behind by their removal. Matta-Clark is the artist who is most famous for having carved a house in half from top to bottom so that the two halves split apart, opening a gap between them through which, if you'd been there to peek in, you could "really see what's there." Just as Robert Smithson, the subject of a fine recent retrospective that also appeared at the Whitney, left a single iconic work that everyone knows, Spiral Jetty (1970), along with a mass of equally fascinating works for the cognoscenti to immerse themselves in, so did his slightly younger, equally meteoric colleague. In Matta-Clark's case, the iconic work was Splitting (1974), an early example of the sculptures he made by cutting through existing (though usually about-to-be demolished) buildings: Over a period of about three months, he made two parallel vertical cuts straight through the middle of a nondescript two-story suburban house in Englewood, New Jersey, removing the material left between the cuts as well as some of the foundation blocks on which the house stood so that one half slightly tilted away from the other, creating a wedge-shaped aperture between them. He also cut away the four upper corners of the house, subsequently exhibiting them as free-standing objects.

Like the spiral-shaped earthwork Smithson built in the Great Salt Lake, Matta-Clark's gesture is simple to describe, hard to execute and larger than life--crazy, almost hallucinatory. In contrast to Smithson's piece, it was not about adding something to existing place but about taking something away; not imposing a new reality but exposing more of the reality that is already there. In this, his work turns out to be a surprising extension of an old sculptural idea, one that would have been familiar to Michelangelo: that "carving is an articulation of something that already exists in the block," as Adrian Stokes put it in his book Stones of Rimini, back in 1934. For Stokes, an emphasis on carving over modeling was the hallmark of modern sculpture, and he even maintained that "a carving approach to the canvas...underlay the modern movement in painting" even more than in sculpture--though of course in his day no painter had ever taken a blade to his canvas for any other reason than to rid the world and his own reputation of a botched effort. That wouldn't happen until the '50s, when the Argentine-Italian artist Lucio Fontana began slashing and gouging holes in canvases that were sometimes elegantly monochromatic, sometimes gaudily encrusted with bits of glass--always with the intention of opening the virtual space of the picture up to the reality of the surrounding space, including the wall, the architectural support that pictures normally hide.

Subscriber Login

4 ISSUES FREE

Subscribe Now!

The only way to read this article and the full contents of each week's issue of The Nation online is by subscribing to the magazine. Subscribe now and read this article -- and every article published since for the past five years -- right now.

There's no obligation -- try The Nation for four weeks free.

.

About Barry Schwabsky

Barry Schwabsky is the art critic of The Nation. Schwabsky has been writing about art for the magazine since 2005, and his essays have appeared in many other publications, including Flash Art (Milan), Artforum, the London Review of Books and Art in America. His books include The Widening Circle: Con­sequences of Modernism in Contemporary Art, Vitamin P: New Perspectives in Painting and several volumes of poetry, the most recent being Book Left Open in the Rain (Black Square Editions/The Brooklyn Rail). Schwabsky has contributed to books and catalogs on artists such as Henri Matisse, Alighiero Boetti, Jessica Stockholder and Gillian Wearing, and has taught at the School of Visual Arts, Pratt Institute, New York University, Goldsmiths College (University of London) and Yale University. more...
Advertisement
Advertisement
Advertisement

Blogs

» The Notion

There's No 'Compromise' Protection Against Predators | Good riddance to the Senate's bipartisan effort to build a weak Consumer Financial Protection Agency.
Kai Wright
28 Comments
Posted at 7:06 PM ET

» The Beat

Comrade Limbaugh Hails the Genius of Socialized Medicine | And why not? His favored national health care system, Costa Rica's, ranks higher than the U.S. system and delivers longer life expectancy.
John Nichols
100 Comments

» Act Now!

Glenn Beck Attacks ME! | Now attack him back.
Peter Rothberg
35 Comments

» Altercation

Slacker Friday | On Evan Thomas, birthers, and the health care bill "stepping-stone" argument.
Eric Alterman

» And Another Thing

Nazia Quazi Update | Watch the video; write a letter; get involved!
Katha Pollitt
39 Comments

» Editor's Cut

Around The Nation | Nation editor Chris Hayes guest-hosts Maddow. Plus: 145 years of women's history and an exchange about the conservation movement's future.
Katrina vanden Heuvel
16 Comments

» The Dreyfuss Report

Hopeful Signs in Iraq? | Results are unknown, so far, and the threat of violence still simmers.
Robert Dreyfuss
99 Comments