George Tooker’s most well-known figurative portray is a lonely one, despite the fact that greater than ten figures crowd the canvas. Every particular person depicted appears misplaced in their very own world, their expressions downcast—although the portray portrays a single nonetheless second, we get the sense there may be reluctant trudging, a sluggish monotony.
On the heart of the underground subway scene, a girl clutches her abdomen, her options corked up in unmistakable nervousness. Although the composition is visually mild, with vivid shades of purple and white, there’s a grim darkness within the tableau. Geometric utilitarianism is a trademark of the portray—rigidly angular stairs and turnstiles serving to society operate—however are these folks functioning? They wander by way of this passage, however have they got a vacation spot? Tooker deftly captures postwar isolation and existentialism in The Subway, one among many twentieth-century works at the moment on show on the seventh ground of the Whitney in New York.
“‘Untitled’ (America)” thematically organizes figural, summary, photographic and sculptural works created from 1900 by way of the Eighties, together with a number of items by celebrated family names like Andy Warhol, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Georgia O’Keeffe and Mark Rothko. The open-ended gallery format lets museumgoers forge their very own spatial chemistry with the exhibit, versus being locked into a hard and fast narrative arc. It’s a wise alternative, given the eclectic array of works.


It’s tough to think about America as a totality—the thought and the entity and the idea—in a single exhibit, however “‘Untitled’ (America)” does a strong job of tracing a path by way of a nation’s collective psyche, occupied with place and popular culture, reminiscence and media, abstraction and concrete residing. (The present’s title pays homage to a piece of the identical title product of forty-two lightbulbs by Felix Gonzalez-Torres.)
Celebrating the tenth anniversary of the Whitney’s downtown location, the exhibition pairs long-held works from the museum’s assortment with newer acquisitions, spotlighting artwork that makes an attempt to make sense of the American identification. The person works exist in dialog with the items round them whereas making their very own implicit, although usually summary, argument or assertion about some American excellent.
Cherokee painter Kay WalkingStick’s April Considering Could stands out for its off-kilter coloration. Acidic hues of inexperienced and orange alongside murky swatches of blue trace at a way of environmental collapse. Coloration additionally takes heart stage in Mark Rothko’s 4 Darks in Pink from 1958. A stark black occupies the highest of the canvas, outlined in a crimson so vivid it appears bodily. Beneath it, totally different swatches of purple mingle in Rothko’s trademark rectangular areas. They couldn’t be extra totally different.


How does a canvas of colours match into an exhibit centered on the American identification? It’s definitely not as inherently and clearly “American” as a Rosalyn Drexler portray of Marilyn Monroe, Robert Henri’s portrait of Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney or Fritz Scholder’s summary rendering of the Wounded Knee Bloodbath—all of that are in “‘Untitled’ (America)”—however the resonances are particular person and ample. The colours evoke a screaming America, a doom, a violence and sublimity. We really feel how arduous it’s to be human right here or anyplace.
I discovered myself significantly touched by the humanity of Alice Neel’s 1970 portrait of Andy Warhol. Like her different portraits of distinctive figures, the composition trades flattery for honesty. Warhol sits, susceptible, surgical scars crawling up his abdomen from beneath the corset he needed to put on after being shot. He seems to be drained, his eyes shut as if at relaxation, his lips shut and frowning. Neel’s deliberately incomplete brushwork on Warhol’s pants and within the house surrounding his physique evokes loss and loneliness.


The Whitney notably featured Edward Hopper’s Second Story Daylight in exhibition supplies—maybe as a result of its scene feels quotidian and quintessentially suburban. Two ladies occupy a patio, one studying and the opposite basking in daylight. The illustration of neighboring twin properties, in addition to a 3rd peeking out from the left, provides a universality to the sunlit figures.
Distinction the golden hour of Second Story Daylight with the fluorescent nighttime of Archibald John Motley Jr.’s Gettin’ Faith, which depicts a road scene in Chicago’s Black group. “Each sardonic and affectionate,” the label suggests, was Motley’s illustration of caricaturized stereotypes that draw on the iconography of minstrel reveals. The scene feels vivid and alive. Folks peer out their home windows onto the road, the place a collection of figures are in movement, dancing and blowing trumpets, round a larger-than-life determine who could be actual, or might be a statue, posed atop a platform.


As a lot as these work differ in shade, model and scope, every is visually stimulating and every speaks to a motif of our shared America. Driving that house are the figurative and summary representations of iconic American architectural wonders just like the Brooklyn Bridge, Pittsburgh metal mills and metropolis streets. Ornamental arts, combined media and sculpture function in “‘Untitled’ (America)” as effectively, many of those works probing mass media and its results. One canvas by Yayoi Kusama collages Air Mail stickers; an acrylic, plastic and wax work by Robert Watts piles up rainbow eggs; and a crammed brass plate sparkles with glass beads, ceramic and coral in Dinner #15 by Lucas Samaras. There actually is one thing right here for each American.
“‘Untitled’ (America)” will probably be on the Whitney Museum of American Artwork in New York indefinitely.