A major new exhibit of the work of Burt Silverman has just opened at the Salmagundi Club in Manhattan. The exhibit-- a feast for the mind and the eye-- contains 35 significant paintings.
For many years, Silverman has been one of the premier painters in America. He's from that generation of thoughtful painters who used realism as a vehicle for reflection and discovery. The result, on display in the exhibition, is rich with nuance and heavy with nutritional content.
 |
| All paintings in this review copyright Burton Silverman |
A good example is this 1994 watercolor, The Machine:
Most of this painting is as loose and abstract as any Mark Rothko or Jackson Pollock painting:
Here, design reigns supreme. These areas aren't governed by objective external references.
But in key places Silverman sharpens his focus and paints solid objects realistically. He uses folds on clothing, treads on tires and similar hard edged details to create a composition which rescues the abstract elements from a fugue state.
These touches keep the picture in an objective, three dimensional reality.
The theme of this picture-- humans wrestling with machines-- is as current as this morning's headlines about coping with the complexities of artificial intelligence. Other paintings in the exhibition invite the same kind of reflection on other themes.
Silverman's brand of realism is very different from much of the realist revival of the past 20 years, which often exalts technical skill and soulless photo-realism. The abstract designs inherent in Silverman's painting remind us of the importance of aesthetic values neglected by so many technicians in the "realist revival." More importantly, Silverman finds in the material world themes worthy of contemplation and extrapolation. Their messages aren't obvious; Silverman doesn't offer us diagrams or roadmaps. He's far too oblique for that. This brand of realism takes time to unfold.
For those who claim that realism is "dated" in the fast moving art world of AI, conceptual art, NFTs and indigenous futurity, the only anachronism in Silverman's art is its emphasis on humanity and depth-- important attributes that are rarely to be found in much of the contemporary art scene.
Just an opinion of no importance: However much I enjoy Silverman's paintings, it's the drawings that I really, really like.
ReplyDeleteManqueman-- I had the good fortune to interview Mr. Silverman in his studio, where I was able to photograph some of the drawings he showed me. I'll be including them in future posts.
ReplyDeleteThanks for showing those details. They make a big difference.
ReplyDeleteAlways fantastic to see Silverman's work. I really need to get on a train and get down to the show.
ReplyDeleteSo very few artists have his combination of poetry and technicality. Also personality, and grace in draftsmanship. I could look at just the way he paints form and be happy all day. He makes so many beautiful decisions, each one, in its own small way, striking at the heart.
Because his drawing is so excellent, so subtle and sensitive, yet clear, I think it is easier for the intellect to inspect and appreciate it. But also because of that, I think it is very easy to miss that he has the same excellence in his structural form and color, in his painting and rendering. I don't know if non-painters understand how subtle and suggestive he is, but every painter I know has his monograph on their bookshelf.
I remember reading his essays on art a long while back. He dared to say a lot of things - plain truths I now know - that you never heard anywhere else at the time. Completely informed how I understand things, and gave me the courage to see through any and all art hype. A lot of artists are like deep-sea submarines sending sonar pings out to the surface, slightly coded. Telling us the simple, beautiful truth, and encouraging us to speak our simple truths in turn.
Silverman is one of the few who make me believe that realism is not obsolete. With most realists today, I wonder what the point is. If you're going to be Richard Estes, why not use a camera?
ReplyDeleteJSL
Since my art blog is called, Art Contrarian and I gotta maintain my cred, let me boldly state that I really like Silverman's painting style. Maybe that's because I'm more aware of them than his drawings and illustration work.
ReplyDeleteMORAN-- Yes, these are paintings that reward attention to detail, which is the reason for visiting the originals.
ReplyDeleteKev Ferrara-- Thanks, that's a good way of putting it. I especially like his book, Sight & Insight-- a great selection of images and essays.
Anonymous / JSL-- I agree that "realism" subsumes a lot of different approaches, and many of those approaches seem like they're not wort the candle. Trompe l'oeil was a more interesting game before cameras were invented.
Donald Pittenger-- My, you ARE a contrarian!
Wish I could see whatever you guys are seeing in these paintings.
ReplyDeleteWell Richard , he's no Levitan .
ReplyDeleteSome favorites currently available on the net...
ReplyDeleteSilverman 1
Silverman 2
Silverman 3
Silverman 4
Silverman 5
Richard-- There are so may gun battles taking place within the field of "realism" you might think it was the Republican congress trying to elect a speaker of the house.
ReplyDeleteRealism is increasingly beleaguered as new technologies continue to nibble away at the traditional markets for realistic painting. If photography wasn't a lethal blow, it was followed by video, Photoshop, 3D printing, digital scanning and AI. Those innovations couldn't help but affect perceptions of the purpose of artistic realism, and of the qualities that distinguish good painting from bad. So if you aren't seeing something in these paintings, it's possibly because you're looking for something different.
In this time of flux, I don't think anyone can speak definitively on the virtues of realism. There are purists still fighting over the use of photography, despite the fact that everyone from Repin to Degas had no problem using photographs. There are monks living in ateliers who scorn anyone who doesn't grind their own pigments. When Rothko gave up representational painting, he said, "A painting is not a picture of an experience, it is an experience." Realism is hardly a monolith.
So perhaps if you'd articulate your own standard of measure for realism, we could discuss what we see or don't see in these pictures. For me, it seems so clear that artists who make a fetish out of mere accuracy are barking up the wrong tree. I've written unkind things here about Nelson Shanks and the celebrated, well funded Art Renewal Center. On the other hand, other realists (Repin, Levitan, Silverman, Lipking) strike me as far superior, but for a variety of reasons. It's hard to articulate why without a specific painting in front of us.
Also, it might help you to see what to look for in Silverman if you read some of his thoughtful essays (for example in Sight and Insight). He is one of that group of true intellectuals who muse about realism in interesting ways.
When Rothko gave up representational painting, he said, "A painting is not a picture of an experience, it is an experience."
ReplyDeleteChrist. What a painfully ignorant thing to say. He really knew nothing.
Poetry of every kind is pointedly both a picture of an experience and an experience, each mapping with and against the other, in parts and in toto. One of the most basic aesthetic structures in Art is suggestive superposition.
Luckily Rothko's pretentious brain fizzle is exactly the kind of prompt that would galvanize a ludicrously bad representational artist like him to jump overboard from the insane challenge of creating naturalistic poetry without the talent, and swim toward becoming the swatch designer he was always meant to be.
Kev Ferrara-- I love your selection of Silverman paintings.
ReplyDeleteAs for your revulsion for Rothko, this goes back to your unfounded insistence that art is a single profession, tolerating no variety.
You insist that art has to be both a picture of an experience and an experience. Put that way, you've defined painters such as DeKooning and Kline and Rothko out of legitimacy before we get to a fair discussion of what they might bring to the table.
Andrew Wyeth owned books of the work of Franz Kline and admired the work of Kenneth Noland. When Wyeth was the one man jury for an exhibition at the Corcoran he said, "the realistic work was terrible, but the abstract work was more interesting, the best work there." He accepted three paintings by Noland into the exhibition and continued to follow his work.
Just as Rothko said,"A painting is not a picture of an experience, it is an experience," Sol LeWitt said, "A drawing of a person is not a real person but a drawing of a line is a real line." These comments tell me that these people are running in a different race than the one you prefer, but are you so convinced that there is nothing of interest going on there? Before I dismissed Koons as raw sewage, I at least went to hear him lecture, asked him questions and gave him a close look.
“As for your revulsion for Rothko”
ReplyDeleteI’m not ‘revolted’ by Rothko. But his famous paintings are – in fact - just simple color designs which rely on rudimentary aesthetic effects. (Plus a little vagueness for the susceptible Projection Test-takers among us.) I don’t see how one disputes that.
And his representational painting is so inept – despite the tens of millions of dollars being paid for it - he fairly well disqualifies himself from speaking about representational painting. Wouldn't you agree?
The public hype surrounding and pushing his work has simply turned a pleasant fraud into a deranging public hoax. Presumably for reasons that have nothing to do with art.
“This goes back to your unfounded insistence that art is a single profession, tolerating no variety.”
Wait a minute. Didn’t you just quote Rothko’s 'unfounded insistence' that paintings should not be representational? Why didn’t you react to that insane and arrogant narrowing of what art can be? Instead of quoting it?
There’s lots of different kinds of poetry, lots of variety. But when somebody begins the conversation with “Metaphors are all well and good, but why do we need both a vehicle and a tenor? That’s so old-fashioned and hidebound. I think a Metaphor can be just a tenor!” then we need to take a step back and think about the reality of what is being said.
There is a point in “pushing boundaries” where the inherent nature of the object changes to the point that it becomes something else. And to use the same word to describe it after it is no longer the same thing is either foolishness or knavery. Or both.
If somebody says they’ve developed a new color called ‘polka dots’, you must gently inform them that a pattern is not a color. No matter what words come out of their mouth in support of the notion. Or else you tacitly agree to enter a world of stupefying blather and birdsong.
A metaphor simply requires a tenor and a vehicle. Sorry if that offends you.
"You've defined painters such as DeKooning and Kline and Rothko out of legitimacy before we get to a fair discussion of what they might bring to the table."
ReplyDeleteIt is evident what they bring to the table. Rothko and Kline bring interesting new graphic designs. And DeKooning plays around with a kind of visceral intermixed-pigment cartooning, which also has a new design style to it.
“Andrew Wyeth owned books of the work of Franz Kline and admired the work of Kenneth Noland.”
The graphic ‘abstract’ work of the moderns was interesting, it was new. And given that graphic creativity at the abstract level is foundational to image making, it would pay for every image maker to pay attention to the design lab results of Kline, Rothko, et al. Just like it pays for leading engineers to pay attention to the latest scientific developments: In 1905 image-makers were paying attention to Art Nouveau and Japonisme. In 1925; industrial design, art deco, and ancient Egypt. In 1955; camera effects and aerodynamics.
"A drawing of a person is not a real person but a drawing of a line is a real line."
A fully-aesthetic representation - even an unfinished one -
creates its own world. Congratulations on your ‘real line’.
“Before I dismissed Koons as raw sewage, I at least went to hear him lecture, asked him questions and gave him a close look.”
That’s because you don’t trust your instincts. That’s why you’re susceptible to verbal manipulation in regard to quality in the arts. If Koons had talked a headier game, would you be celebrating him in this exchange now?
Kev Ferrara wrote: "That's because you don't trust your instincts."
ReplyDelete40,000 years ago, the first Cro-Magnons said, "Hmmm... my instincts tell me I shouldn't go into this dark cave filled with predatory animals and dangerous pitfalls and work my way a mile into the earth, with nothing but a flickering pine torch for light, until I come upon just the right cave wall, where I'll use the pigment in mud to create images of wild animals. And yet..."
my instincts tell me I shouldn't go into this dark cave (...) and yet...
ReplyDeleteYour response conflates the intuitive experience of aesthetic communication with the intuitive experience of primal real life situations. Yes both require a functioning sensibility, but they are structurally, as well as circumstantially different.
Sure, one must overcome irrational primal fear. After one is sure it is irrational. For if it wasn't for primal fears taken on faith, intrepid man would have long ago died out concomitantly with cave bears dining in.
The discounting of intuition as de facto faulty in the matter of aesthetic communication is quite a quirky take. Assuming one has the ability to intuit aesthetic meaning when conveyed through sensual symbolism, one can only be de-trained in perception to 'overcome' rational disinterest or annoyance at meaninglessness and pretension. And who would that help?
After all, our time is precious. And so much of what is offered is specious.
So I'll ask again...
If Koons had talked a headier game, would you be celebrating him in this exchange now?
Thanks Kev for those wonderful Silvermans - I had two of them already on my hard drive but I've never come across the others before.
ReplyDeleteIn my teens I came across a book by him in my local library. I had no idea who he was but I remember the pages really inspiring me and intoxicatingly suggesting that a life spent painting pictures was a worthwhile one - there was something about his paintings that evidenced a profound sense of fulfilment given by their making.
My only caveat regarding my deep appreciation and enjoyment of Burt's oeuvre is one that applies to so many figurative artists of our day (kinda starting with Degas, whom Silverman reminds me of); that our culture's loss of faith in myth denied him of so much subject outside of portraiture.
My only caveat regarding my deep appreciation and enjoyment of Burt's oeuvre is one that applies to so many figurative artists of our day (kinda starting with Degas, whom Silverman reminds me of); that our culture's loss of faith in myth denied him of so much subject outside of portraiture.
ReplyDeleteI think he's from a unique generation of New York painters from a gritty time and place. Among their (I suppose) unspoken tenets was a kind of suspicion of the imaginative and a centralization of journalism in social (and art) life. And a dedication to the city. All of which bashes up against their obvious talent and love of visual poetry, which yet comes through in otherwise reportorial art. (For example, Irwin Greenberg's pictures of city buildings are clearly poetic.)
The disconnect from the 'American Imagist' (deep Imaginative Projection) tradition of the earlier era, it seems to me, is the very reason why, for example, Daniel Schwartz floundered so hard and long on his red van foot race picture. As well as his other attempts to harken back to earlier compositional traditions.
You can certainly look at all this as connected to the epic collective cultural struggle articulated by McGilchrist of the insistent Left Brain sabotaging the flowering of the Right. And thereby sabotaging the arts and weakening it in the face of the onslaught of disconnected fact.
Thanks Kev, your placing Silverman in context of his contemporary milieu makes a lot of sense.
ReplyDeleteI certainly agree with your take on Daniel Schwartz's difficulties.
Also interesting to see Irwin Greenberg's paintings of city buildings, I think their poetry is strongly reminiscent of that found in Richard Bunkall's pictures of airships, locomotives and ships in front of civic palaces and theatres etc. And Bunkall's case is an interesting example of how an artist born into the "epic collective cultural struggle articulated by McGilchrist of the insistent Left Brain sabotaging the flowering of the Right" 'solves' the problem; evolving or nurturing a personal mythology extracted out of the contemporary scene that somehow embodies the universal.
I say 'evolving or nurturing' a mythology, but I believe the truth of the matter is that this is a question of habitually occupying a state whereby one can be visited by the beckoning vision. However, for the professional artist this is a high risk strategy compared to the usual options for monetizing their art.
Chris,
ReplyDeleteThanks for turning me on to Bunkall. Some of his pictures are really evocative in a grand and mysterious way. His juxtapositions of giant imposing trains and marble neoclassical architecture particularly strike me.
There is something beyond in his work, something mythic, tinged with a darkly wry undercurrent. It sort of reminds me of Gary Larson's The Far Side cartoon. Where you can enjoy each individual cartoon, but after a while as you accumulate his work and absorb it, you start to get a sense of a much bigger, highly skeptical viewpoint that's informing everything. Bunkall sets his pictures up like a combination of a museum exhibit and deadpan comedy staging. He seems, overall, to be saying something about the nostalgia of grand civilizational dreams; as all part of a passing parade.
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteKev,
ReplyDeleteYes, your take on Bunkall's pictures describes very closely the vibe I get from them as well. Your comparison with the accumulative effect of Gary Larson's work, though I found surprising, was strangely on the money.
The giant structures of transport and home dwarf the people scattered at their foot such that they seem like the tiny descendants of those who built them (I'm put in mind of the Eloi in H.G.Well's 'The Time Machine' playing heedlessly beside the beautiful ruins of their past) and are, in some way, the grand embodiments of a higher agency that guided the collective will of their creators. Hence I find it no accident that giant whales occasionally occupy the place of the airships, trains and ocean liners.
There is also something in all this of Gulliver tied down by the Lilliputians...
"He seems, overall, to be saying something about the nostalgia of grand civilizational dreams; as all part of a passing parade."
ReplyDelete"The giant structures of transport and home (the grand embodiments of a higher agency that guided the collective will of their creators) dwarf the people scattered at their foot such that they seem like the tiny descendants of those who built them."
"There is also something in all this of Gulliver tied down by the Lilliputians..."
It is, actually, artistically, a very good sign that we can't pinpoint the meaning in words.
> Richard Bunkall
ReplyDeleteHaven't seen these either, pretty neat