The Idea and The Problem of
JOHN ALTOON
b. 1924 - d. 1967
ALTOON IN THE LATE '50s:
MCA's exhibition of Altoon's paintings begins in earnest with a group of large canvases produced in 1958 and '59, following the artist's return to Los Angeles from Spain.
Clearly showing the imprint of Abstract Expressionism, these paintings are formed of scrubbed, fuzzy masses of grayed to blackened greens and yellows energized here and there by splotches of more vivid, near primary reds.
Linear elements, always in black and added as a final step, sometimes create shapes of their own, but more often are used to outline and emphasize shapes that have already occurred as the result of previous applications of paint.
For the most part, these compositions are center-dominated, with the edges of the formats playing only the supporting role typically found in Western art and thus falling short of the Abstract Expressionist ideal (expressed both in works and in theory) that a painting's edges should be every bit as active as the center.
The complexity and variety of incidents in these Altoons -- the myriad colors, lines, shapes, and textures -- never settles into the kind of singular experience of seeing which characterizes a Pollock, a Kline, or a Motherwell. And of course, it's even further removed from the quieter visual immediacy of Rothko and Newman.
With "Untitled (Trip #2)," Altoon moves closer to the shapes, line quality, and energy of Dekooning, with some hints of Gorky, as well; but, of course, without the use of the figure that's so important in both of these artists' work. To have done so would tread too closely to blatant imitation, not the origination that every artist knows is what it takes to be an important artist, as opposed to confirming that someone else is an important artist.
So, in spite of the overall pleasing look of these paintings, and with no clear direction the work seemed to be pursuing, it's not a big surprise to see Altoon taking a different course in his next body of work, which arises in late '59.
The yellow to red palette and the use of black outline to define shape are the only two, and narrow, threads linking these paintings to the works that precede them. Now, however, the shapes defined by the black outlines are essentially linear in quality, and the outlining has a shape-like quality.
While a fascinating and long-running discourse surrounds the concept and use of shape and line; these works by Altoon merely make "shape" and "line" difficult to distinguish. The result is a muddle that appears to be motivated more by an urge to create a visual knock-out than to participate in thoughtful discourse using paint on canvas. (There's even a formal problem in the paint looking thick, but actually being relatively thin.)
Within a few years of these paintings, Frank Stella would demonstrate how fascinating the interplay of line and shape could be. But this would occur in the emotionally less fervent climate of minimalism, not in the heat of Abstract Expressionism.
Also within a few years of 1958, Op Art would come along to exploit the unnerving perceptual possibilities created by the same dynamics at work in these Altoons -- the jumping back and forth of figure and ground. But Op Art would do this in a much more disciplined, often mathematical manner; and it never, ever approached the sheer volume of visual stuff that Altoon hurls at the eye with these works.
It may be that Altoon got what he wanted: a highly agitated and energized visual effect. But it's one that is highly aggravating; akin to the consequences of getting way too drunk; exciting for brief time, then sickening.
Perhaps works like these are what prompted Ad Reinhardt, the Abstract Expressionist and early minimalist, to proclaim, "A squiggly line is terrible!"
