In Black and White
The directive was simple: one piece, no wider than 24 inches, and only in black and white. A true act of constraint. In this show, a collective whole of 50 artists have, in their many varied ways, revealed how endless the possibilities can still be when the scope is reduced to just black, white, and just one. I would like to use this entry as an opportunity to honor two elements of the directive: self-selection and palette.
Many group shows are juried by an outside set of eyes–an artist, a curator, or a critic. Being accepted into a group show is being given a nod by the eye of the beholder that your work is beautiful. That your blue painting for the show themed Blue is using blue in such a way. That feeling of validation when your landscape was selected by Lois Dodd. When you enter work into a juried show, you select a few works that you think are strong and you send them along, you cross your fingers, and hope that the juror selects you. While this show is inherently juried by virtue of membership, the selection of works comes from the artists, themselves. So as members of the gallery, we already know that we will be seen…but how do we want to be seen?
Maybe the work that you see by an artist that you know here is just so characteristic of their work… but maybe it’s not. “Why did they choose that?” you wonder. To choose one piece over another is not a decision that any artist takes lightly. No matter how many months or years each of us have been showing our work here, selecting work for any show is a little bit of a debut. Any artist who is actively working is always evolving, and putting a new piece in a group show can be an opportunity to do something brave: to show something new.
A show that assigns the artist to work exclusively in black and white has deep roots. Working in black and white is often about stripping color from the picture plane and getting down to the fundamentals of composition, line, value, rhythm, and shape. While some artists might really only work in black and white, many do not—and certainly not for this particular collection of artists. For many, black and white means drawing studies in dry media, such as graphite or charcoal. Or, they might restrict their wet media to ink wash. To that end, switching over to black and white is often integral to the learning process–in figuring out the form of a figure, or in sorting out the geometry of a composition, in focusing on the responsiveness of the gestural hand, or in constructing an observed space. The list goes on and on. But in each of these examples, attention is paid to a more limited number of elements. You know, leave out color for a while so I can understand what I am going for. Restricting to black and white is evidence of the practice of the disciplined artist.
But even if a piece in black and white was just meant to be a reductive act in order to sharpen one’s eye or to prepare for a piece that will be in color, or in three dimensions, or for something that’s just more grand…well, what of these black and white pieces? Are they not art, too? When I look at all of the work in this show, one thing is revealed to me, and it is not how hard these Bowery Gallery artists work to keep up their drawing skills (though that also is true)…
…It is mystery.
The mystery of maybe not knowing what I’m looking at but I know that I like it. The mystery of, “How is that sketch is made of so few lines, yet how do I know what it is?” The mystery of, “How is this little sketch more compelling to me as that big colorful painting in the next gallery?” Maybe there’s mystery in every good piece of art, but maybe more mystery is revealed in the simplicity of the reductive act.
In Black and White is from January 28 until February 22, 2025. There is an opening on January 30 from 5-8pm and a closing reception on February 22, from 4-6pm.
-Eileen Mooney.
