Over the last three weeks, visitors to the Art Institute have been able to witness the creation (or more accurately, re-creation) process firsthand. As part of the upcoming exhibition Contemporary Collecting: Selections from the Donna and Howard Stone Collection (opening this Friday, June 25), a draftsman from the LeWitt Foundation has been working with staff from the Art Institute’s contemporary art department to “create” Sol LeWitt’s Wall Drawing #1111: A Circle with Broken Bands of Color (2003) in the Modern Wing’s Griffin Court, in full view of the public.
For those of you unfamiliar with LeWitt’s work, much of it doesn’t exist like most artworks do, as a tangible painting, drawing, or sculpture. Rather, it is a list of instructions on how to create the artwork. As a conceptual artist, LeWitt believed that it wasn’t the finished work that was the “art”; art instead begins and ends with an idea.
I spoke with Matt Stolle, a fellow in our prints and drawings department and a “technical painter” for the contemporary art department, who is one of the AIC staffers installing the piece. Here’s what he had to say about the process and how it feels to reproduce such an esteemed artist’s work.
Can you describe the process of creating the work?
It's essentially a giant tape painting. After the outline of the image is drawn on the wall with pencil, areas of the wall/image are masked off with drafting and masking tapes. The areas of wall that are left bare are then able to be painted. When the tape is removed, you're left with a clean edge. The process pretty much follows that pattern: mask off, paint, remove the masking, mask off the painted areas, and on and on.
Is everything predetermined or is there any room for interpretation?
The general layout and colors to be used are predetermined. Also, there are certain rules within the piece that we have to follow. For example, no one block of color should ever come into contact with another block of the same color, no yellows touching yellows, etc. It seems as if the exact order of the colors in the circular bands can be open for interpretation. However, I know that Takashi, the draftsman from the LeWitt foundation, brought a schematic with him that we've been following.
How long will creating the LeWitt take from start to finish?
What type of paint are you using?
Is it strange/weird/fun/nervewracking to execute another artist's work? Especially when that artist is as well known as LeWitt?
I would say it's definitely fun and exciting. It also feels like a privilege. LeWitt is such a dominant force, completely respected. It's not so much nervewracking, because I'm working along side a draftsman/artist who's been installing these pieces in museums for thirty years. There's a huge amount of comfort in that. Also, being an artist myself I'm familiar with the materials, etc. It's maybe a little intimidating at first because you want the execution of all the separate parts to be perfect, but once you get into the flow of working, you realize it's all a matter of following the steps. Even if there were a "mistake," it's all very easy to fix.
Did I miss any important questions for Matt? Ask away in the comments. And see below for more images (in chronological order), or click through to our Flickr page for an even more complete list.
Installation of Wall Drawing #1111: A Circle with Broken Bands of Color wraps up on Thursday and the exhibition opens to the public on Friday.
1 hour 37 min ago The Art Institute of Chicago NOW ON VIEW—In 1963 Melvin Edwards began Lynch Fragments, a series of welded steel assemblages made in response to the tumultuous social climate of the Civil Rights movement. The title of the series evokes the horrifying images of racist mob violence, yet Edwards’s works distill the subject into a powerful sculptural language, fusing modernist abstraction with a sense of personal and collective history.
Afrophoenix No. 1—one of the earliest objects from the series—exemplifies how the artist physically transformed found objects and brought them together in poetically suggestive, tension-filled compositions. Here the formal arrangement of steel elements evokes an equestrian bridle and bit. Chains, hammers, nails, spikes, and screws magnify the sculpture’s associative power, recalling implements of labor and torture. At the same the title references the mythological phoenix—alluding to death, rebirth, and transformation.
See Afrophoenix No. 1 (1963) by Melvin Edwards in Gallery 289D.
6 hours 3 min ago The Art Institute of Chicago CLOSING SOON—Modern Velvet: A Sense of Luxury in the Age of Industry
With their plush, inviting, and varied textures, the velvets featured in this exhibition showcase the diversity of modern velvet as well as the effects of industry on its production. As industrial innovations at the turn of the 19th century allowed for faster production and encouraged the use of less costly materials, designers and manufacturers of velvet sought to maintain its association with wealth, luxury, and splendor.
Learn how this elegant fabric has inspired designers for centuries, with a wide range of examples from the 19th century to present day—closing March 19.
17 hours 2 min ago The Art Institute of Chicago Just like the museum's collection comes from artists around the world, so does the Museum Shop’s assortment of products. We source exclusive products from artisans that are inspired by the cultures, mediums, and techniques represented in our museum collection. View our assortment of unique items from India.