Word: bartlette
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Members of the football alumni group called the Y. Association, have also charged that Ryan, with the blessing of President A. Bartlett Giamatti, has reduced the number of football players that the admissions of fice will accept...
Being stuck with the lease, Bartlett stayed there, and having nothing else to do she drew the view from her window, over and over again-a total of nearly 200 studies of the pool, the boy, the gravel, the cypresses, the shadows. She drew on the spot, from photographs and later from memory; the banal content of the failed holiday slowly acquired a precision through being shuffled, isolated, winnowed. The final result is a group of eight large paintings in which the schematic dissection of the garden that Bartlett carried out in her drawings is rethought, the elements locked together...
...Bartlett is a deft maker of marks; she understands the syntax of representation so well that hardly an inch of surface goes slack. The way she renders the dusty black recesses of a cypress, or the paddle-like leaves of a foreground plant, or the lunar speckling of artificially lit gravel-and does it in terms of relentlessly agile movements of a broad brush-is a lesson in decisiveness. It would be hard to think of more fluent paint handling in current art than the set of three views of the tiled tank, named Pool, 1983. One reads it from...
...tiles are streaked and blotched with rust and orange algae, sweeps and daubs of pigment; the untended pool might have been the scene of a murder, a nastiness complicated but not denied by the big, squishy peony blooms floating on the water. It is Bartlett's aide-memoire, the cam era, that sets the strange flavor of these images. She will paint four or five versions of the same view, shifting position a little each time; the effect is not one of Warhol-like repetition, but rather of alert, frustrated scrutiny, as though the scene held...
...this garden, nothing apparently happens because time has apparently stopped, and Bartlett's images of frame-by-frame shift are a way of shaking it back into life. The place is so ambiguously quiet that after a while the kitschy little statue starts to come alive. Small changes take on enhanced significance, as in Wind, 1983, where the whipping of the cypress fronds, black as gnawed brushes against an unmemorably blank sky, is al most the only change (apart from eyeline) from one panel to the next. In this way -paradoxically enough, in view of her constricted subject - Bartlett...