When I was
recently in Bethesda, Maryland, on a visit to my mother, I saw a short review
in the Washington Post about an art
show at a commercial gallery right near my mom’s apartment, the Marin-Price
Galleries on Wisconsin Avenue. The
exhibit was The Washington School of
Color, a collection of works by members of the mid-20th-century group of
artists in the Nation’s Capital who originated the movement of that name (more
commonly known as the Washington Color School), the only art movement
identified with Washingon, D.C. The
Washington School of Color, which ran from 2 to 27 August, featured works
by Leon Berkowitz (1911-87), Howard Mehring (1931-78), James Hilleary (1924-2014), and John Chapman Lewis (1920-95). Special emphasis was given to the hard-edged
work of Hilleary whose Op Art-like canvases bear a striking resemblance to the
brighter, more vivid paintings of Kenneth Noland (1924-2010), one of the Color School’s more
prominent members who’s not represented in this show.
In fact, of the founders of WCS in the late 1950s, none of
the movement’s leading lights—Noland, Morris Louis (1912-62), Gene Davis (1920-85), and Anne Truitt (1921-2004)—were part of the
Marin-Price exhibit—which may account for its short run of only 23 days as well
as the low attendance; we were alone in the small gallery when Mom and I spent an
hour or so there on Monday afternoon, the 25th.
(The likely prices of these artists’ work may explain their omission
more than any aesthetic decision: the costliest pieces in the Marin-Price show
were $10,000 and $20,000, far lower, I’d guess, than a Louis or Noland would
demand.) Normally, I’d have thought, the
curiosity value for area residents and visitors combined with the sheer vibrancy
of the WCS masters’ works would have brought out a large number of viewers (not
to mention potential buyers). As it was,
however, The Washington School of
Color was a disappointing affair, not only lacking in star power, but in
verve and excitement—two of the principal responses I, at least, get from displays
of the best of WCS art. (Washington
Post art critic Mark
Jenkins, estimating that the undated works largely came from the 1960s, noted
the lack as well: “The more elemental shapes and hues came later.”) My disappointment, of course, may just have been
because some of those artists’ work is
among my favorite of modern art; I’ve described these works as “extremely colorful and enticing.” I called the poured, “rich and intense”
acrylic stains of Morris Louis “luminous,” for example. Noland’s Op Art hybrids I described as “bright
and striking” and “exciting to look at” as they “seem to pulse and spin.” (I’ve reported on ROT on several exhibits of WCS artists, including Anne Truitt in “Art in D.C. (Dec. ’09-Jan. ’10)” on 18
January 2010, “Morris Louis” on 15 February 2010, and, in passing
mention, Kenneth Noland in “Picasso,
Bearden, Gilliam, and Gauguin” on 26 June 2011—which also covers an exhibit of
the work of Sam Gilliam, a later member of the movement. I also mentioned the WCS and several of its
member artists in “Washington Art Matters,” 5 September 2013.)
Marin-Price’s Washington School of Color, with its
focus on the lesser lights of the movement, was basically a pale reflection of
the power of the WCS. The Post’s Jenkins also suggested
that the display didn’t include the “mature styles” of some of the
“less-celebrated” WSC painters. Leon Berkowitz was represented, among other
pieces, by a large (53" x 65") action abstract painting, Untitled (Spain) (1955), that was
essentially gray (at a Color School exhibit?
Really?). James Hilleary’s pieces were dominated by angular chevrons, mostly
dichromatic (many of which looked to me as if they were different-colored
versions of the same patterns) which reminded me of washed-out Nolands. Where Noland’s stripes are bold and bright,
Hilleary’s are pastel and pale, giving a watered-down feel to the work. The offerings of John Chapman Lewis seemed
like wannabe Mark Rothkos and the paintings of Howard Mehring, covering a
variety of styles, also suffered, in my view, from lack of vibrancy and
boldness in their palette. My mother and
I used to have a regular benchmark for art shows we liked: we’d suggest a “midnight
shopping trip” to pick up the pieces we liked best. I wasn’t moved to come back to the
Marin-Price for a late-night raid on this collection
There were many practitioners of the Washington Color School
movement including most notably Berkowitz, Davis, Noland, Louis, Hilleary,
Mehring, Lewis, Thomas “Tom” Downing
(1928-85), Sam Gilliam (b. 1933), Truitt, and Paul Reed (b. 1919). Other artists associated with the group
include Mary Pinchot Meyer (1920-64), Jacob Kainen (1909-2001), and Alma Thomas
(1891-1978), among others. The movement,
which dealt with the effect of light on color, was a form of abstract art that grew
out of color field painting, a type of abstraction itself that experimented
with covering large areas of the canvas with solid pigment, as exemplified by
the work of Mark Rothko (1903-70) and Helen Frankenthaler (1928-2011). (Color field painting is one of the two
branches of Abstract Expressionism in the United States. The other is known as action painting, the
style which characterizes the best-known works of Jackson Pollock.) The movement was a departure from the
Abstract Expressionism then prevalent in New York art circles: “It was about
color and light and form,” said Beatrice Gralton, curator of the 2011 Corcoran
Gallery’s Washington Color and Light. “It was about an all-over approach to
imaging-making. It was really this
reduction to the most pure, elemental aspects of art making.”
In 1953, Louis and fellow D.C. artist Noland visited New
York where they saw paintings by Abstract Expressionists Pollock (1912-56) and
Franz Kline (1910-62). The two
Washington painters also paid a call on Frankenthaler at her New York studio
where she introduced them to the idea of pouring the pigment to stain unprimed
canvases. This newly popular technique
created intense color and accentuated the grain of the untreated canvas.
Louis has said that Frankenthaler, essentially the founder of color field painting,
created “a bridge between Pollock and what was possible.” Returning to Washington and working with
other Washington-based artists like Davis, Downing, and Reed, the two painters helped develop what became known
as the Washington Color School. The early
Washington colorists were among the first artists to experiment with the
newly-developed, water-soluble acrylic paints, which they diluted to stain the
raw canvas with translucent color rather than paint a previously primed canvas
with opaque oil colors. They
experimented with all kinds of new techniques, essentially trying whatever came
to mind. They poured, dripped, dabbed,
and dribbled the acrylic pigments onto unframed and unstretched canvases, using
the floor (in Louis’s case, of his dining room) as the easel, the technique
used by Jackson Pollock.
(Simplistically, the difference between staining and
painting is that with painting, the pigment coats the surface of the canvas or
other medium forming a thick, solid crust while with staining, the pigment seeps
into the fabric and is absorbed by the fibers, creating a tint through which
the texture and grain of the cloth is visible.
Furthering this distinction is the practice of priming the canvas for an
oil painting; that is, covering the raw fabric with a coat of white or neutral
paint before applying pigment. The
stained canvases of the WCS artists were unprimed so the thinned acrylic is
absorbed readily instead of sitting on the surface.)
The WCS movement was
formalized in 1965 when a group of painters who lived and worked in the
National Capital, including Louis, Noland, Davis, Reed, Mehring, and Downing, displayed
works in Washington Color Painters, an
exhibit at the now-defunct Washington Gallery of Modern Art, a non-profit institution near the city’s Dupont
Circle (where several art venues, including the Gres Gallery in which my
parents were then involved and the Jefferson Place Gallery, a promoter of WCS
painters, were located) that featured contemporary art between 1961 and 1968. This show established Washington’s place in
the nation’s art scene when Clement Greenberg
(1909-94), the country’s most influential art critic in the middle of the last
century, saw the exhibit and declared the staining of
canvas with color a “school” (“I’m tickled by the idea of a ‘Washington
School’ in art,” the critic wrote in a postcard to Davis.) Washington Color Painters toured the
country and defined what is now the city’s signature art movement and the name Washington Color
School made it into the art textbooks and “put our city on the national art map,”
as Jean Lawlor Cohen put it in Washington
Art Matters. “Everybody
was into transferring their thinking from oil paint to acrylic,” said Sam Gilliam,
“so that when you got together, you talked paint.” So for about a decade, according to John Anderson, art reviewer for the Washington City Paper, “seemingly every artist in Washington was
under the spell of Abstract Expressionism and the so-called Washington Color
School.”
(Greenberg, a champion not only of Abstract Expressionism and
color field painting, but Louis and Noland themselves, had introduced the
Washington artists to Frankenthaler, thus perhaps sewing the seed of the WCS
movement even before its inception. By
dint of his reception of Washington Color
Painters, he was clearly the midwife of WCS; perhaps he was also the
matchmaker who made it possible as well. Though some art historians credit critic
Clement Greenberg with originating the name Washington Color School, the show’s
organizer, WGMA director Gerald Nordland probably coined it. A few writers even deny either man came up
with the phrase, but whatever the doubt for its source, art journalists needed
a label in order to write about this new collection of hot young artists from
the Nation’s Capital.)
Washington had just become a true art center in its own
right a few decades earlier because of the proliferation of museums (Corcoran,
1874; Phillips, 1921; National Gallery, 1941) and art schools (city
universities established art departments: Howard University, 1921; American
University, 1925; Catholic University, 1930 as the Division of Art and renamed
the Department of Art in 1943; the Corcoran School of Art was founded in 1890). This situation assured that the city would
have regular exposure to the best art, including contemporary forms, and a
steady flow of young artists. Some
historians note that Washington is close to New York City but not so close that
its artists would lose their independence; as Clement Greenberg phrased it: “From
Washington you can keep in steady contact with the New York art scene without
being subjected as constantly to its pressures to conform as you would be if
you lived and worked in New York.” It
also didn’t hurt that two local critics, at the Washington Post and Times-Herald and the Evening Star, were receptive and enthusiastic
observers of the hometown art scene. (Other
art journalists dismissed much of the work of these upstarts as the output of
monkeys with paintbrushes which “make Jackson Pollock look like Rembrandt.”)
At the same time, while the post-World War II generation of
Washington artists were continuing the traditions of 20th-century American art,
the next group broke with that model and, in the view of editor and curator Jean
Lawlor Cohen, “entered love affairs with color and geometry, scale and
materials, . . . intent on finding a breakthrough vision.” Just as the previous generation of American
artists had struggled to break away from the European model, their Washington
successors wanted to break away from the influence of the New York Expressionists. Though D.C. had a population of just under a
million inhabitants in 1950 and ’60 (probably over a million in the whole metro
area), it still had the feel of a small town, and discrete communities, like
the art world, were even more communal.
The young painters all knew one another, at least casually or professionally:
they attended the same talks and lectures, went to the same showings, taught or
studied at the same studios, and got together and “talked paint,” as Sam
Gilliam put it. The “new” wasn’t just
upon the Washington colorists, they were inventing it. As Thomas Downing said of his own work, at
the end of the ’50s, the young artists were “trying everything”; by the turn of
the decade, Paul Reed declared, “We felt enormous momentum and excitement” and
sculptor Anne Truitt quipped, “The brew began to boil up.”
Following their initial impact at the WGMA show, as the
original group of artists came to dominate the art community in the District from
the ’60s into the ’70s, Davis, Mehring, Downing, and Reed exhibited at other galleries
in the area. The original Washington Color School painters expanded into a
second generation, which included Sam Gilliam and Rockne Krebs (1938-2011), and the movement continued to
bear influence over the Washington art scene and beyond even as some of the
original artists moved on to other work.
Some leading WSC artists didn’t survive the ’60s (Louis, Meyer) or the
’70s (Mehring, Thomas), but their influence and that of their Washington Color Schoolmates
on American art stretched through the rest of the 20th century and on into the
21st. Hilda Shapiro Thorpe (1920–2000), a color field painter
who made large abstract paintings and handmade-paper, balsa, or sheet-metal
sculptures, taught a generation of Washington-area artists and helped
perpetuate the Color School movement into the present. “I guess today you’d say that we learned to
think outside the box,” Gilliam said, “but we also learned to think in the
context of the larger art world.” Among
the later painters who bears the stamp of the WSC is Lou Stovall (b. 1937), a
friend and colleague of Gilliam’s whose work I first saw in 2011 and have
admired (read “coveted”) since.
The main tenet of the colorists was to cover their canvases
with unified blocks of bright, pure colors. In a review of a 2003 gallery
show that featured James Hilleary’s work, Washington
Post art critic Michael
O’Sullivan wrote that he’s “able to distill lyricism out of pure line and
color,” a founding principle of the colorists’ art. Like abstract painters, with whom the
colorists shared many parallels, color field painters rejected the
representation of identifiable figures. WCS
artists generally painted abstracts, and there are parallels between the Color
School and Abstract Expressionism, though there are significant differences as
well. The WSC adherents were more
formalist than the Abstract Expressionists, more prone to decorativeness and
less forbiddingly philosophical. Though
the use of stripes, washes, and fields of single colors of paint, for instance,
was common to most artists in both groups, Washington colorists eschewed
symbolism in their art, feeling that even abstract forms distracted viewers
from experiencing the pure color. There
weren’t supposed to be any subjective, emotional connotations in the hues or
forms on the canvas: red was just a color, not an expression of passion; the
painting was just art, nothing more meaningful or symbolic. It was all supposed to lead to a pure
sensation of enjoyment. Baltimore Sun art critic Glenn
McNatt capsulized this art: “Swirls of color, limpid washes of pigment that
jump out and envelop the viewer, eye-popping stripes that seem to march across
the canvas to a syncopated, ragtime beat.”
Painter Thomas Downing spoke of “the expressive potential of pure
color—the necessity for a form which was simple and direct to convey it.” The focus on purity of form strongly
links color field painting with Minimalist art, as you can see in Anne Truitt’s
brightly painted, formalistic wooden
structures, for example. Morris Louis pared
his paintings down to just what he felt was necessary, the bare minimum to
create his effects.
The Washington Color School wasn’t strictly a “school” in
the sense that most art movements connote by that title. The artist didn’t work together or
collaborate on techniques and styles; the WCS wasn’t an organized group. They didn’t socialize as a group (though they
knew each other for the most part and some, like Louis and Noland, were friends,
as were Kainen and Davis). The
commonalities they encompassed were designated by critics and curators for the
most part. Each of the WCS artists had
an idiosyncratic and personal style: Howard Mehring favored Z shapes; Alma
Thomas was influenced by patterns of light; Paul Reed painted elaborate spheres;
Thomas Downing’s circles looked like discs; Kenneth Noland was known for his hard-edged
lines, chevrons, and, most distinctive, circles which were sometimes called
“targets”; Morris Louis poured broad stripes of color on mostly raw, white
canvases; Gene Davis was all about straight lines; Anne Truitt made geometric wood sculptures painted in high-gloss colors. What linked them was, first, that they all
lived and worked in the relatively small art community of Washington, D.C., and
that they shared certain significant stylistic qualities: they worked in
oversized formats, focused on color in bold and striking ways, painted in
abstract shapes and forms, and used hard-edged stripes and swaths of (most
often acrylic) pigment.
The Washington Color School continues to hold the interest
of exhibitors and spectators alike. In
the years before Marin-Price’s Washington
School of Color, there were many other exhibits focused on the art and
artists of the movement. Over 30 arts
institutions in Washington mounted a city-wide celebration of color field
painting, ColorField.remix, including exhibitions at galleries and museums
of works by members of the Washington Color School (such as Morris Louis,
Kenneth Noland, Thomas Downing, Alma Thomas, Gene Davis, Leon Berkowitz, and
Sam Gilliam), during the spring and summer of 2007. Later in 2007 and ’08, the Smithsonian
Institution’s Hirschhorn Museum and Sculpture
Garden housed Morris Louis Now: An American
Master Revisited and in 2009-10, the same museum presented Anne Truitt:
Perception and Reflection. In 2011, the Mitchell-Innes & Nash
Gallery in New York City’s Chelsea, the center of the newest of contemporary
art, held Kenneth Noland: Paintings 1958-1968 and a
group of Washington, D.C., art collectors began the Washington Color School
Project, to gather and publish information about the history of the color
painters, notably Davis, Louis, and Reed, and abstract art in Washington. Sam Gilliam’s works have been displayed in
D.C. shows at the Corcoran Gallery of Art in 2005-06 and the Katzen Art Center
at American University in 2011, and in a site-specific project at the Phillips
Collection, also in 2011. (The Katzen
show Washington Art Matters in 2013
spotlighted the Washington Color School in its survey of the art scene in the
Nation’s Capital from the 1940s through the 1980s.) Earlier this year, two galleries in
Brookland, in the Northeast section of the District, mounted Under the Influence: Reverberations of the
Washington Color School, a show devoted
to current “acolytes and a few
antagonists” of the WCS.
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