HUDSON, New York — In case your first ideas about Rebecca Purdum’s continuously fluctuating summary work are what they remind you of — for example, a mowed hayfield in winter seen beneath a moody grey sky — you wouldn’t essentially be improper. You’d, nevertheless, miss the deeper pleasure of not having the ability to pin them down. That is the conundrum these works current; they might resemble features of the pure world however they allude to an expertise past language. They thwart that craving to assert possession by naming, which all of us expertise, however which might forestall us from seeing and feeling sensorially. The artist’s refusal to create discursive work is radical.
Every work within the exhibition Rebecca Purdum: 11 Work at Pamela Salisbury Gallery is its personal world. Purdum doesn’t make artwork serially. Utilizing all of the paint she has for each bit, she applies it to a canvas or linen floor together with her arms and later scrapes it down with a palette knife. Each portray is an opaque diary of addition and subtraction, documenting a cycle of protecting and uncovering. Although traces of earlier marks stay, Purdum leaves no historical past of what path she took to succeed in her vacation spot. Her work are actually and metaphorically self-effacing.
Rebecca Purdum, “Harbor” (2024), oil on linen
In “Inside, Outside” (2024), she covers the floor with a darkish terre verte pigment (often known as “green earth”). The method of build up and scraping down is inimitable. The portray’s darkest, densest space reads as each an oval and a gap, a pit that can not be entered. A lighter, barely legible type is seen within the heart. What does its presence signify? Its resistance to definition underscores the hole between expertise and language.
In “January” (2025) and “Harbor” (2024), paint and woven linen floor have grow to be one, a document of scraping away and erosion. Within the latter, the densest space floats close to the highest, a darkish maroon cloud. Whilst it could provoke a way of weariness, a number of indecipherable white marks stir different emotions. What are we to make of those marks inside this darkness? Or that this space appears to drift? How can we interpret the inexperienced marks in “January” that look like each a part of the abraded floor and separate from it?
Rebecca Purdum, “Inside, Outside” (2024), oil on panel
As with the maroon cloud, regardless of how exhausting we attempt, we can not peer deeper into the floor. The need to see deeper acknowledges the infinitesimal existence of the person. Is the “Harbor” through which we search an inconceivable refuge a way of infinity? Purdum’s work at all times make me hyper-conscious of my inescapable solitariness, directly unhappy and wondrous. They remind me of the opening line of Rainer Maria Rilke’s “The First Elegy”: “Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the Angels’/Orders?”
Purdum juxtaposes that longing with an consciousness of fleeting phenomenon: the dense floor of the maroon cloud and its flickering, altering, multicolored environment. She is aware of that our lives are comprised of the fast world of sight and contact and of immeasurable actuality, and doesn’t wish to lose her consciousness of both. What persists is time, and the infinite change that it brings consumes every part. These work flip us inward, nudge us towards our inchoate emotions, as their surfaces reveal time’s abrasive results. On this regard, they distinguish themselves from the summary coloration fields of Rothko and Reinhardt, whose titles replicate the timeless, nevertheless tragic.
Like these two artists, Purdum’s work are inconceivable to totally seize photographically, even in our exact digital age. The sunshine slowly yielded by the altering floor diffuses as rapidly as we see it, leaving us not sure of what we’re , and the place to pay attention our consideration. In wrestling with formlessness, she devotes herself to a form of abstraction uncommon in at the moment’s artwork world.
Rebecca Purdum, “October” (2023), oil on panel
Rebecca Purdum, “Small Gesture” (2024), oil on panel
Rebecca Purdum: 11 Work continues at Pamela Salisbury Gallery (362 1/2 Warren Avenue, Hudson, New York) via April 6. The exhibition was organized by the gallery.
