The monumental monochrome paintings of Mark Tansey seem at first to celebrate a landscape's elemental grandeur with photographic accuracy. Icy blues of snow- and oceanscapes show a frozen moment of nature's ungraspability. Then, out of the blue, literally, you make out a face in a large snowball--and not just any face, but Karl Marx's. A vague surfer rides roiling swells around the Statue of Liberty, and the cliff face that climbers are scaling is as impossibly angled as an Escher staircase. Now we realize we're in the same intellectual and often very funny terra infirma of Tansey's earlier quasi-conceptual works, as when he reimagined Picasso and Braque as the Wright brothers trying to get their Cubist plane off the ground. That old and new Tansey territory, a land of slippery perceptions, makes up this survey of an important contemporary American painter.
I first became aware of the artistic work of Mark Tansey at an exhibition called "Visions of America." Three pieces were exhibited: Landscape, Library of Babylon, and Water Lilies. There were several amazing works on view, yet Tansey's contributions transfixed me. I came back again and again to ponder Water Lilies (and I'm extremely pleased that our own Columbus Museum of Art added it to their collection ... and I'm still going back to see it).
This book centers on a different exhibition, and none of the pieces I'd admired are included. It was still worthy of my time, though. I especially enjoyed studying The Bricoleur's Daughter, The Key, Four Forbidden Senses, Derrida, and Mont Sante-Victoire. So many of Tansey's works require careful viewing. On the surface, there is a sense that something just isn't right. For me, it takes some exploration to determine exactly what is "off." Consequently, I can't view one and then just move on to something else. I'm compelled to review what I've seen in my mind.
If there is a drawback, it is that the book tells too much about what goes into creating Tansey's art. I recall being so frustrated that David Lynch wouldn't reveal his interpretation of the meaning of his films. Now, having read this book, I think that Lynch is correct in his approach. Knowing too much strips away some of the magic and wonder. The artist's image replaces my own impression. Yes, I now am able to identify some of the subjects who I might have known by name, but not by sight. However, Derrida is a prime example. For me, it depicted Holmes' struggle with Moriarty at the edge of the Reichenbach Falls. A closer look brought into question whether it was a struggle ... or a dance. Cool! Well, that wasn't the artist's intent, and the work is now changed for me.
This is a beautiful book to enjoy. I'm still intrigued by Mark Tansey's perspective of life. I just wish that I didn't know quite so much.
I dug out this book (which I bought as a teen over 20 years ago) because I just saw some Tansey paintings at the Broad in LA. I was reminded of my old obsession with his work and it was fun to revisit the images. The writing.... I could do without. Very insider art world and on the pretentious side.
A wonderful, wonderful artist. This particular edition is the catalogue from the 1993 Los Angeles County Museum of Art exhibition. The introduction was written by none other than Alain Robbe-Grillet. An important artist for lovers of Duchamp.