Word: guston
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...twelve: Ernest Briggs, James Brooks, Sam Francis, Fritz Glanner, Philip Guston, Raoul Hague, Grace Hartigan, Franz Kline, Ibram Lassaw, Seymour Lipton, José de Rivera. Larry Rivers...
...advance guard is advancing in a number of different directions at once, and swiftly outrunning the abstract-expressionist formula. The variety of the paintings shown here-from De Kooning's gustiness to Guston's coolness-is in itself a strong indication of the movement's vitality. And even the uncaring observer will somehow prefer one picture lo another, which proves that they do project certain qualities-whether ugly or beautiful. None is a mere nothing...
...With Guston's Summer, 1954, abstract expressionism becomes its own opposite: abstract impressionism. Guston, who once had a high reputation for academic art, does not think of his later paintings as pictures at all. Says he, "They are myself." In order to put himself into his canvases, Guston makes them close to his own size. For such self-consciously personal work, the results look strangely like blowups of Claude Monet's water-lily impressions...
Last week an ex-conservative named Philip Guston gave an answer of sorts. Painter Guston's reputation is solidly based on complex still lifes and figure paintings. His tame, placid portrait of a plump-armed girl won top honors at the 1945 Carnegie exhibition of U.S. painting. Three years ago, Guston turned his back on easy success, joined the abstractionist ranks. His latest exhibition in a Manhattan gallery features huge canvases thinly blotched with pale colors, and greyish ribbons of paint trailing, snail-like, over slush-hued backgrounds. His sketch for the exhibition catalogue, an apparently random doodle...
...Guston grew unhappy because he felt he was "just making pictures. I was overly conscious of what I was doing. Art isn't meant to be clear. Look at any inspired painting-it's like a gong sounding; it puts you in a state of reverberation . . . Toulouse-Lautrec's art isn't just pictures of dancing girls and cabarets; it projects some sort of internal world. And you couldn't exactly call Ucello an abstractionist. But he has the ambiguity I like...