Cruz-Diez has consistently worked through his career focusing solely on colour, line and (viewer) perception. His visual style can be consistently identified throughout his work spanning his entire career. His work contains an element in which the viewer actively participates in viewing the work because the colour changes and presents a sensation of movement as the relative position of the viewer changes. Cruz-Diez uses themoire effect to produce this sensation of motion by his particular composition of lines. Because the image of his work changes as the viewer changes locations, he refers to this changing effect of the image as “vibrations.”
Cruz-Diez embarked on a period of intense study where he read a great deal on art history. He identified that to find something new – even the tiniest gap – he would have to conduct meticulous research, much like a scientist, using a methodical approach. The works of colour theorists, scientists like Chevreul, literary figures like Goethe, artists like Albers, Vasarely and Velasquez and the Impressionism movement informed his thinking.
Eventually Cruz-Diez came to the realization that color had never been the subject of any artistic discourse. Always dismissed as a mere consequence of form, it spurred him on to further study the eye, perception of color and the way light changes.
Gradually Cruz-Diez developed his discourse; that of color in space, devoid of form. His canvas’ reflect the ever-changing, ephemeral and mobile nature of color unlike the work of the Impressionists, which showcased the changing color of light but only in a motionless way that was in the past, not the present.
He uses lines because it is the most efficient tool, devoid of symbolism and leaving only colour without anecdote. Therefore colour becomes a matter of personal preference, which is an emotional connection. Viewers connect with the colour and through this find a poetry in his work.
Over time Cruz-Diez developed his medium of showcasing colour using the latest technology – always referring to the same principles – but demonstrated using increasingly accurate methods.
Integral to this is the notion of integrating people into his art. This is both out of necessity to accelerate the production of a piece – where assistants and family members follow his precise plans – and in the role of the viewer, where he changes the relationship between viewer and artwork from separate entities to that of a fundamental part of the works.
Yago Hortal is a contemporary Spanish painter known for his vibrant paintings inspired by Abstract Expressionism. Born in Barcelona, Spain in 1983, Hortal has said: “I look for a balance between chaos and order, something like a combination between a chess game and a boxing match.” He manipulates the surface of his works by marbling, splattering, and smearing thick, fluorescent acrylic paint in an urgent, spontaneous manner. His paintings have an internal logic, in a similar manner to American artist Tomory Dodge. Having exhibited at Rooster Gallery in New York, Egbert Baque Cotnemporary Art in Berlin, and Espacio Atlantico in Vigo, among others
The color is the main protagonist of the painting that presents Hortal Iago at the beginning of the year in the gallery Senda. Vigorous strokes added to the use of saturated tones show a suggestive visual impact which have great harmony and boldness, multiple shades of color. The forms and combinations of this wide range span across the fabric, a process that culminates in the spread of the paint off the canvas, bursting into the architectural space. Thus, Hortal uses color as a vehicle to convey vitality and impetus to use pictorial masses contributing to the work severe expressive value, with a sculpture or relief.
The execution of the work gives the artist the ability to establish a relationship between chaos and control. This link is manifested by a directed to a natural ease contained, which encompass the clutter correspondence between the elements and the visual coherence of the composition. Use a variety of random shapes, waving and paintings jets to drive the route of looking around the canvas and provide a sense of movement to the representation. The transmission, as accurate, gestures to the fabric, and perceptible evidence of the working method of execution attributes are neat, in an abstract way to express that combines spontaneity with the rational through a formal vocabulary covered suggestive in a large domain of pictorial resources.
The exhibition ‘H-H. Halley meets Hortal’ has come together after eight months of conversations, e-mail exchanges, and the cross-posting of ideas, studies, and drafts in which both artists responded to each other’s practice.
This led to conversations about things they have in common — and others that differentiate them — inside the world of abstract painting. It highlights the New Yorker and the Catalan, experience and youth, rationalism and randomness, geometry and gesture, two approaches to the mastery of color… a back and forth dialogue about what unites them and what distances them.
At Senda, each artist will exhibit three large paintings, conceived of with the goal of establishing a conversation. In addition, Peter Halley and Yago Hortal have created five collaborative works on paper, signed by both artists.
One: The aesthetics of Colourfield, minimal, hard edge, serial and
post-painterly abstract painting.
Post painterly abstract
paintings, like all paintings demand that one sees them in the flesh (22).
The colours, shapes,
patterns, forms, canvases, stretchers and scale of the paintings are crucial;
one has to see them up close (22).
The canvases of the sixties
usually had thick, solid stretchers: and thus a definite volume and mass; they were environmental as well as
Painterly abstract paintings
are very physical paintings, paintings emphasize the frontal aspect, one can walk around the sides and look at
them from other directions (22).
Post painterly abstract and
Colourfield paintings are not domineering in the way of Rothko and Motherwell.
very lightness and bright colours of Colourfield paintings dispel the sense of
being overwhelmed by the paintings. (22)
Colour was the one element of
painting that Sixties art was successful at exploring. (23)
purpose is to render my emotion. This state of soul is created by the objects
which surround me and which react within me: from the horizon to myself, myself
included. For I often put myself into my pictures, and I am aware of what exists
behind me’ (H. Matisse, 143) (23)
Colour has been central to
postwar and contemporary artists such as Barnett Newman, Joseph Albers and
The Sixties was an era of
which drew attention to the physicality of art works. Colour was another element
in the physicality of an art object. (24)
Clement Greenberg noted that
any mark made on the surface of the canvas alters the state of the canvas.
‘[t]he first mark made on a canvas destroys the literal and utter
When one confronts a
painterly picture, they first see the bare canvas. Its stops the viewer up
Something is different about
Colourfield paintings, one doesn’t at first notice what it is. One looks
closer: yes, the canvas can be seen. This bare canvas is not a sly reference on
the painters’ part to the manufacture of the painting. (25)
The artist is not showing the
canvas to the viewer to show how the painting is made, much like a movie camera
can move out of frame to reveal lights, as set, etc. (25)
The paint on the canvas is
somewhat representational, paintwork is referring to somethings outside of
Many artists sink into a
trance state or muse state when they create. A form of pure meditation. (25)
Three dimensions are real space.
They get rid of the problem of illusionism and literal space, space in and
around marks and colours. (26)
The limits of painting are no
longer present. A work can be as powerful as it can be thought to be. Actual
space is intrinsically more powerful and specific than paint on a flat surface.
Two: ABSTRACT EXPRESSINISM AND SIZTIES COLOURFIELD PAINTING
Flatness in painting is
Donald Judd said that
paintings are rarely, if ever, totally flat. ‘Two colours on the same surface almost always lie on different depths’.
Colour, especially oil pain, covering all of much of a painting is almost
always both flat and infinitely spatial. (30)
Barnet Newman’s paintings
empahsised vertically, frontality, flatness, single colour, all-overness,
unified space and grand scale. (30)
‘The present painter can be
said to work with chaos not only in the sense that they are handling the chaos
of the blank picture plane but also in that they are handling the chaos of
form. In trying to go beyond the visible and the known world they are working
with forms that are even unknown to them. They are engaged in a true act of
discovery in the creation of new forms and symbols that will have the living
quality of creation’. (Newman, The Plasmic Image) (31)
Rothko’s art is considered
‘heroic’ because it attempts to achieve something great in the world of
Existential suffering. Out of the pain and suffering rise Rothko’s spiritual
It is transcendence comes
from its aim to go beyond the usual realms of art in terms of content and form.
Kozloff: “Ignition that results from the impact of a fierce pallet upon an
aloof and fastidious temperament [which] flusters exhaustion and begins to hold
the haunted spectator longer than he intended”.
The closer one looks at the
late works, the more one sees that Rothko was exploring the same formal aspects
that have always concerned painters: (38)
The relation between colour
and size, scale and shape.
The relation between spirituality
The relation between tone and
The relation between
proportion and colour
The relation between surface
texture and inner tumescence.
Like Richter, I have closely looked at Rothko throughout my progression and practice development. I have studied his method of paint application, mainly the layering of thin coats to build a deep void space of colour. I have concentrated on his choice of colour, principally his colour pairing. I find his piece that use conflicting pigments, more in tune with my current colour choices. I am working with mainly highly tuned, vibrant pigments similar to those I experienced in NYC, but using those colours to create a conflict. This conflict stems from a personal standpoint, reflecting the inner confusion that I am currently experiencing. Immersing myself inside of these pigments (through light), encircling and cradling me at the heart of the conflict, allows me to untangle and manoeuvre my way through.
Window light overcame the darkness or blindness of all that had preceded.
Where previously there had been confusion, and vision had been obscured, once the sun’s rays passed through glass there was, literally enlightenment.
Windows not only invite brightness but also allow the old to be discarded.
Glass enabled Albers to realise his most cherished goals: with this relatively ordinary form of matter, he could make a piercing light shine brightly and the old and dark disappear.
With glass, the artist could give exultant voice to a range of resplendent, and seemingly holy, colours.
Art should provide something else: a life, an awakening, a removal into another, brighter sphere.
Glass’s translucency, its vibrant transmission of colour, its mutability, its ability to be cut, assembled and sandblasted in myriad arrangements that bear no direct evidence of personal handwriting made of all the spiritual and visual possibilities resoundingly, gloriously apparent.
Glass is sacred, the stuff of revelations. It represented thinking of another sphere, an acceptance of the inexplicable.
As with any mediums in which Albers worked, the artist noticed what others were ding, but still found in it a unique and unprecedented opportunity.
Glass permits the process of transformation so pivotal to Albers’s notion of the value of art.
For his early assemblages, he picked up disregarded fragments, the garbage became jewels.
In later works, glassmaker’s samples acquire a celestial radiance; an orderly grid becomes a source of euphoria; stencils and the machinery of sandblasting help make objects that dance with rhythmic leaps. (12)
In the opaque works, the artist achieved an illusion of translucency, so that light that is actually reflected appears to be emanating from a direct source.
Homage to a Square:
His ‘platters to serve colour’: application of six to ten coats of white Liquitex gesso on top of a hard, unyielding surface creates a luminous and neutral setting where colour can have its fullest voice.
Glass as a material was too fragile, the loss too painful. The possibilities for spiritual purity had been truly shattered by human brutality.
Glass, Colour and Light
Before artists knew how to render light illusionistically- when light could only be represented emblematically (e.g. halo)- it was universally understood as the manifestation of a divine presence.
It represented illumination, enlightenment and the grace through which man could orient himself among the dangers and pitfalls of the world.
This tradition in the arts began to undergo radical changes around 1800, as first evident in the work of Francisco de Goya.
I his prints, Goya used light and dark in terms of their metaphysical meanings but simply as black, white and intermediate values of gray.
The struggle for new meanings and aesthetic functions for light and dark is one of the most fascinating phenomena of Modern Art.
In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the need to explore light was a paramount concern of artists raging from the Impressionists, who insisted on a morally neutral basis for all visual experience.
By containing a luminous inner image within the darker outer frame, and using discrepant scales, he translated the purpose and meaning of medieval stained-glass windows into a modern mode.
As in stained glass, the central “light image” can be perceived only by opposition to the darkness that surrounds it.
Albers’s played with similar relationships of image to ground, of transparent to opaque, of light as pulsating life against a passive expanse of a single hue.
Albers’s imparted to Park a far soberer, intensely disciplined style that would make his later work., leaving behind those impulses rooted in the spontaneity of Germany and French expressionist tendencies.
Park sacrifices the exuberant profusion of shapes of the earlier works but retains the lyrical freedom of their wide chromatic range.
Yellows, purples, oranges, whites and green give a staccato, syncopated quality to the composition, which the wire-mesh covering adds irregular ornamentation.
Albers’s finally did away with diversely shaped elements and substituted them for logical tectonic organization, which orders distinct groups of green, blue and white rectangles into a modular system.
The slightly wider strips of leading divide the areas of colours into distinct colours or into checkerboard arrangements.
In the vertical configuration of olive-green squares on the left, the thicker strips not only outline the particular chromatic group but also accentuate the shift from left to right of the lower block of squares.
Although far from uniform, the arrangement of the individual squares and the linear structure retain an architectural rather than expressive effect.
Albers renounced the lavish bouquet of rubies ultramarines, yellows and greens of the earlier panels, reducing his palate in Park to a narrow range of green and blue hues, highlighted by sparse, small areas of white.
Instead of arranging distinct colours for variety and contrapuntal complexity, Albers now concentrated on constantly shifting subtle modulations in colour groups, creating what can be called a climate of colour.
One small area of Park stands out in serene but insistent contradiction to the work’s severe economy in colour range and the basic form of the square: the two rectangles and squares of a mildly glowing pink to the right of the center.
Within the context of the repetitive web of squares surrounding it, the black lines within the pink area declare themselves very eloquently to be a cross, which we can perceive as a purely formal device or as a mystic symbol.
Isolated and diminutive, the area asserts itself as the heart of the entire composition and sets the tones to which all others are attuned.
In the 1970s, David Reed began making paintings with strokes directly brushed wet–into–wet across door–size canvases, measuring about fifty–five inches wide and seventy–six inches high. Each stroke was the length of Reed’s reach from a single standing position. These paintings are quite literal, measuring the dimensions and capabilities of Reed’s body, tracing the touch of his brush and its passage across the canvas. Drips attest to gravity and the fluidity of the oil paint. Like many post–war art works, they appear to aim at an extreme of matter–of–factness.
The combination of paint and body determined the painting, makes the rules and prescribes its dimensions and its look. Frank Stella famously made his black paintings of the late 50s and early to mid–60s so that the interior of the painting sympathized with the exterior. Critic Michael Fried called this “deductive reasoning,” in that one could deduce what a painting would look like simply from the shape and dimensions of the canvas. The interior lines and shapes traced and echoed this larger form. Inverting Stella’s concept, Reed cut his canvas to fit the painting he knew he wanted to make, a painting that not incidentally was itself determined by his body’s physical facts, the length of his arm and brush, and its reach.
These paintings mark real time as much as real space: the brush moves, time passes. But even at this most basic level, something interrupts. Most obviously, these paintings are often put together of several vertical panels, each about eleven inches wide. The seams interrupt the works at about the position that Reed had noticed his earliest abstractions naturally breaking up, their all–over compositions falling apart. He took a gesture that began as an organic habit of his hand, analyzed it, and made it a condition of the painting — turning tendency into necessity. And, as Reed has himself noted, no matter how directly he worked, illusionism crept in: gravity made the wet paint drip, which inevitably created spatial depth.
The artwork of David Spriggs lies in a space between the 2 and 3 dimensions. In his work he explores phenomena, space-time and movement, colour, visual systems and surveillance, the strategies and symbols of power, and the thresholds of form and perception. Spriggs is known internationally for his unique large-scale 3D ephemeral-like installations that use a technique he pioneered in 1999 layering transparent images.
David Spriggs’ large-scale sculptural installation, The Paradox of Power, is an investigation of rapid change, deconstruction and symbolic revolution. In the same vain as the Futurists, Spriggs is interested in the representation of time and motion in the sculptural form. Using layering as a device, Spriggs has developed “an environment that breaks free from the laws that constrict both two and three-dimensional materials, bringing together painting, drawing, photography, digital-modeling, and sculpture, to create a spatial topographic system”… Spriggs has installed of a life-size model of a stratified bull, cut in two, with each end displayed in two adjacent cases, each a sublime eight feet high and ten feet wide. Spriggs’ investigation of the multiplicity of time and its relationship to the sculptural form is here transcribed in his an analysis of the bull as a semiotic agent. By literally deconstructing the bull through a layering of transparent stratum, the mythologized ‘power’ the bull represents is “fragmented, and reconstructed in an alternate reality.”The bull is rendered immobile, flipped upside down, legs in the air. The form is further transformed in the plastic anaglyphic binary colours of each half — a paradox of red and blue. This binary references not only the deconstructive possibilities of vision itself, but also an antithesis of power in the corporeality of the bull contained, divided and sacrificially immobilized.. Like Muybridge’s running horse, Spriggs uses the representation of serialized time to suggest a paradoxical ordering of symbolic power.
Spriggs’ work invites us to see-with what is not actually there and to move-with the constellation of what we’re beginning to see. Moving-with perception composing itself, we experience the dynamics of an object becoming spacetime. We no longer simply observe – we are moved by the experience of watching, and we move with it. We note the contours but feel the colors. We see the lines but feel the rhythm. We see-with the becoming-work. This is the activity of plastic dynamism expressing itself through the emergence of a body-image constellation.
Suspended in a cross formation are four illuminated plexi vessels, each containing a nebulous cube of one of the four subtractive primaries used in the CMYK process. The hazy cubical forms reference visual culture constructions such as the screen and the hologram, while simultaneously dialoguing with monochromatic painting of the 20th Century. Spriggs has built an artistic practice characterized by a desire to transcend the limitations of “flat” media in re-creating three-dimensional space. The particular social, political, and technological connotations attached to individual colours, and by extension, the tradition of the monochrome loom large in Spriggs’ chroma-centric practice. The artist, however, prefers to describe his works as “stratachromes.” This formal designation captures the layered process that gives literal dimension to Spriggs’ hovering, soft-edge, monochromatic “Spatial Image Sculptures.”
4 Colour Separation is the latest instalment in a collection of works that exhibit a longstanding engagement with the mechanics of perception. While the exploration of optics is a persistent feature of Spriggs’ practice, one must not overlook the haptic and corporeal dimensions of the artist’s work. Much like its large scale and immersive predecessor, Stratachrome, 4 Colour Separation creates a ground to be navigated. The substantial dimensional presence of these Spatial Image Sculptures implicates our bodies in the viewing experience and speaks to the dynamic nature of perception itself. The constantly shifting play of light and chromatic intensity as one moves around the work imbues these stratachromes with tremendous vitality and a special power to split a single ubiquitous printing process into multiple poignant embodied experiences. Like Stanley Kubrick’s monolith in 2001 A Space Odyssey, Spriggs’ enigmatic stratachromes create perceptual encounters that demand full survey and are defined by perplexity, reverence, and utter enchantment.
Virtual Art (From
Illusion to Immersion) S
Virtual art has
integrated itself into the everyday, the way images are now produced as well as
the integration of both skepticism and utopianism.
With the advent of
new techniques for generating, distributing, and presenting images, the
computer has transformed the image and now suggests that it is possible to
The panorama demands
a special consideration: this illusion space represented the highest developed
from of illusionism and suggestive power of the problematical variety that used
traditional methods of painting.
have changed our ideas of the image into one of a multi-sensory interactive
space of experience with a time frame.
In a virtual space,
the parameters of time and space can be modified at will, allowing the space to
be used for modeling experiment.
The possibility to
access such spaces and communication worldwide via data networks, together with
the technique of tele-space, opens up a range of options.
Historic Spaces of Illusion
Through the device of seeming to extend the wall surface beyond a single plane, the room appears larger than its actual size and draws the visitor’s gaze into the painting, blurring distinctions between real space and image space.
The most effective examples of these frescos use motifs that address the observer from all sides in a unity of time and place, enclosing him or her hermetically.
This creates the illusion of being in the picture, inside an image space and its illusionary events.
The overall effect is the break down the barriers between the observer and what is happening in the images on the walls. This is accomplished by a suggestive appeal to the observer from all sides that untilise illusionism techniques.
The positioning of a illusionist fresco, is partly staggered, on a podium painted in perspective approximately one meter from its base on the floor, contributes to the optical effect of a relief, and this depth.
The most important effect of all is its totality; it is an image space that addresses the observer from all sides: ‘The visitor to the chamber falls under the spell of the gaze directed at him from all areas, which rivets him for as long as he remains in the room’.
Illusionistic painting techniques create an artificial space into which the observer is “integrated”.
Completely filling the field of vision, there is no possibility for the observer to compare extraneous objects the scene, which might revitalize the impression made by the picture.
The observer confronts a simultaneous image that envelops panoramically and transports them to another space.
Frescos are remarkable because they surround the observer entirely and almost completely occupy the field of vision.
Although the murals begin at around 1.20m from the floor, the room can be classified as space of illusion because of the effect created by its 360-degree design, and most important, the fact that there are no framing elements, neither painted not architectonic.
Fifteenth century Italian masters opened up the depth of space though their mastery of perspective, translated into the metaphor of the window- a window that opens up into a different reality.
With the aid of the visual technique of perspective, strategies of immersion receive a tremendous boost, for they allowed the artist to portray convincingly much that formally was alluded to.
The Renaissance discovery of perspectiva artificialis introduced distance and breaks in perception, whereas previously it had been directly oriented on the representational nature of objects.
However, perspective is not an expression of natural vision; it is a technical construction and, what it presents to the perception follows specific conventions.
Distance between the observer and the object viewed is removed through ubiquitous mathematical analysis of the structure of image space, the totality of its politics of suggestion and strategy of immersion.
To achieve rational interior design, the new art of perspective was obliged to impose sever limitations.
The physiological space perceive by the observer is spheroid, a result of the permeant movement of the eyes, had to be abstracted to a flat linear perspective construction.
The combination of illusionistic fresco and three- dimensional sculptures, which the observer views in close proximity, endows a scene with an immersive presence that draws the observer into the scene.
When the visitor moves, perspectival perception of the work changes accordingly.
The interplay of representation of heaven (baroque ceiling paintings), which takes in the entire building and penetrates the interior by the way of windows, creates an effect that represents a new facet in strategic immersion: pictorial space at different distances from the observer.
As a tool of visual perception, the camera obscura was the result of a long process of scientific discovery and development.
The panorama installs the observer in the picture.
The representation of nature in the service of an illusion, was from the beginning the core idea of the panorama.
Both the illusionistic landscape room and the panorama surround the observer with pictorial images and both seek to create the effect of actually being in a real landscape.
With its suite of innovations in presenting images, the panorama was able to heighten the illusion considerably and more lastingly, compared with the illusionistic landscape room.
Since the 1960s, James Turrell has created an expansive body of work that offers profound revelations about perception and the materiality of light. With their refined formal language and quiet, almost reverential atmospheres, his installations celebrate the optical and emotional effects of luminosity.
Turrell emerged as one of the foremost artists associated with what is known as the Light and Space movement, which began in Southern California in the mid-1960s. Building on his early research into sensory deprivation (particularly the Ganzfeld effect, in which viewersexperience disorienting, unmodulated fields of color), his art encourages a state of reflexive vision that he calls “seeing yourself seeing,” wherein we become aware of the function of our own senses and of light as a tangible substance. These perceptual concerns are coupled with a deep commitment to the natural world and an interest in orienting his work around celestial events.
Turrell’s kinesthetic art is an invitation to experience energy in relation to light, sound, wind, and the canvas of a changing sky by quieting the mind and observing. Opening our senses and our consciousness to the world around and within us, while lying on a bench or the floor to experience the sky, allows and even encourages a transformation of one’s perception.
Wedgework:the use of projected light creates an illusion of walls or barriers.
Corner Shallow Space: is created in a convex corner; the light creates an illusion of a three dimensional object.
Turell’s transforming light installations encourage the movement and realisation of energy, of dynamic molecules, and the give and take of this seemingly innocuous hole to the sky gives a chance to pause, to listen, to feel and breathe, and yes, to see.
Joseph Kosuth was one of the originators of Conceptual Art in the mid-1960s, which became a major movement that thrived into the 1970s and remains influential. He pioneered the use of words in place of visual imagery of any kind and explored the relationship between ideas and the images and words used to convey them. His series of One and Three installations (1965), in which he assembled an object, a photograph of that object, and an enlarged photographic copy of the dictionary definition of it, explored these relationships directly. His enlarged photostats of dictionary definitions in his series Art as Idea as Idea (1966-68) eliminated objects and images completely in order to focus on meaning conveyed purely with language. Since the 1970s, he has made numerous site-specific installations that continue to explore how we experience, comprehend, and respond to language.
Kosuth believed that images and any traces of artistic skill and craft should be eliminated from art so that ideas could be conveyed as directly, immediately, and purely as possible. There should be no obstacles to conveying ideas, and so images should be eliminated since he considered them obstacles. This notion became one of the major forces that made Conceptual art a movement in the late-1960s.Kosuth has often explored the relationships between words and their meanings and how words relate to the objects and things they name or describe. He has been fascinated with the equivalences between the visual and the linguistic. To this extent, he was influenced by the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein’s ideas on language.Many of Kosuth’s installations and displays of words have incorporated excerpts from literature, philosophy, psychology, and history that have that have intrigued him. Consequently, he has used the presentation of language to make his audience contemplate issues of poverty, racism, loneliness, isolation, the meaning of life, and personal identity – usually without any clear, overt commentary of his own. In this, Kosuth embodies how the contemporary artist may become a philosopher and moralist.Since he usually relies on the writing of others in his presentations of words and texts, Kosuth’s work represents how Conceptual art, like much of postmodernism, involves a lot of appropriation, in his case the sources being written and verbal as opposed to visual or art historical. His chosen texts are usually not particularly descriptive nor do they attempt to create images with words.
The idiosyncratic Joseph Kosuth approaches art with conceptual and intellectual reasoning rather than artistic intuition. Like Marcel Duchamp, he is primarily concerned with the definition and meaning behind an object. The creative process is achieved through his method of conceptualization and is highlighted by his critical questioning of visual representation and perception. The present work of art, One and three hammers, 1965, is a prime example of Kosuth’s adoption of words and language as his artistic tools. Devoid of everything aside from the mechanically printed words, the work can be seen as both a visual and a verbal code, one that invites the viewer to engage with the dialectical relationship between the idea of art and the realized object. Kosuth’s preoccupation with language, meaning, relationships and the interpretation of visual information is fundamentally an enquiry into the very nature of any artwork.