“A Delicate Touch” at Studio Museum in Harlem

By: Reggie Lynch

 

  “A Delicate Touch”, a show of 18 watercolors from the Studio Museum’s permanent collection, is proof that size doesn’t matter, at least in terms of exhibitions. Although the show is brief, it offers an interesting insight into the use of an often-overlooked medium. Traditionally, watercolor has been seen as, what the Studio Museum calls, “a sketching tool.” It was, for many artists, a stop on the road to a finished product. The works in “A Delicate Touch,” however, feature artists who chose to use the medium as a stand-alone art form, rather than a means to an end. As this show demonstrates, once artists began embracing the medium as a legitimate art form, they were, and are, able to create works of stunning grace and elegance.

  The curator, Lauren Haynes, chose to arrange the show by style rather than chronologically. At first, I was thrown off, thinking that an exhibit that pointed out the development of the medium over time would be more beneficial to viewers. As I went from painting to painting, however, I realized that the development of the medium isn’t the point. Instead, the point is watercolor’s ability to fit into and do service to various styles and artistic approaches, be they abstract or representative. The light, airy quality of watercolor suits the first work in the show. John Dowell’s, A Delicate Touch (1977), for which the exhibition is named, features small bursts of confetti-like color paired with gently flowing lines. Dowell took advantage of watercolor’s lighter tones to evoke a sense of child like celebration and placed these tones in contrast to the spaces of bare parchment. It is a work about the play of line and color, definite form and formlessness, exhalations of tones. As the works progress, line takes a back seat and color becomes the main focus. Sam Gilliam’s Untitled (1964), for example, he has abandoned line almost completely, instead letting creases and folds in the paper provide a sense of form. Although, suggesting that there is any real sense of form in this work is an overstatement. The two notes I initially wrote when faced with the painting were, “tie-dye shirt” and “a J.M.W. Turner sky on acid.” It’s all about the color, man.

  As the show progresses, the curators pull us back to artists who use watercolor to create works full of distinct forms and shapes. In Untitled (2007), Chris Ofili lets form take hold, depicting a woman composed entirely of curves, almost as if to mimic the movement of the water based medium that gives the woman her shape. Similarly, Richard Yarde let the medium and its colors define the figures in The Parlor (1974). The execution of this technique is most clear in his depiction of the family dog. Instead of defining the dog with specific outlines, he lets the background colors delineate a dog-shaped piece of bare parchment. For me, these works with concrete subjects don’t possess the same sense of experimentation found in the more abstract works. Instead, the artists were more interested in the subject and style, as opposed to the facets of the medium. By the time you’ve reached the final works of the show (three small works by Wangechi Mutu) the points have nonetheless been made. The flexibility of watercolor has been proven and its validity as a true, artistic medium has been established. All is right with the world.

 

“A Delicate Touch” at Studio Museum Harlem runs through March 14^th

 

Studio Museum Harlem

144 W. 125^th Street

 

Take the A, B, C, D, 2, 3 or 6 train to 125^th Street

Museum Hours: W– F, 12-6; Sat, 10-6; Sun, 12-6

Museum Website: www.studiomuseum.org