The Arts section of today’s The New York Times examines the strange history and odd future of an artist considered to be one of the geniuses of the 20th Century and possibly the greatest of the Abstract Expressionists. Ironically, he remains–by design–virtually unknown to the general public and this despite the fact that he may have been even more prolific than Picasso.
For those of you unfamiliar with Clyfford Still, he is most certainly the ultimate manifestation of an artist’s contempt for commercialism, museums, galleries and collectors. He is famous for denouncing the galleries and museums of the art world as Nazi gas chambers. After a brief period of selling and displaying some of his work, Still retreated to a remote farm in Maryland and spent the remaining decades of his life painting furiously, cursing critics and the commercial art world and hiding his work. In a one page will he specified that his body of work could never be sold, never be separated, never be shown next to another artist’s work and could only be shown to the pubic in a Clyfford Still museum that would be built by an American city and would exclusively house his entire collection.
In August 2004, the City of Denver announced it had been chosen to receive the artworks contained within the Clyfford Still Estate. In preparation for the 2010 opening of the Clyfford Still Museum, representatives of the city of Denver and a British art historian were recently allowed into a sealed and secret warehouse in Maryland to explore the inventory of 2,393 paintings, representing 90 percent of Still’s paintings. (Estimates are that there are over 10,000 drawings and sketches that will also be housed in Denver.) The paintings alone have been conservatively valued by Christies at well over $1 billion if they were to be brought to market.
You can read the full story–and I highly recommend that you do–by clicking here, but I’m less fascinated by Still’s art than I am by his drama. When the Denver museum opens, a vast body of work that has been hidden for almost half a century will rock the art world, rewrite the history of 20th Century art (or so the critics and historians will tell us) and relegate the current reigning masters of Abstract Expressionism to second class status.
Ironically, for an artist who spat on the commercial art world, the revelation of his work will obviously have a huge impact on “the commercial art world.” There are an estimated 150 Still paintings in circulation, sold before he retreated into his furious misanthropic seclusion. Just this past November one his paintings went for $21.29 million at Christie’s in New York. One can only imagine what this may do to the work of other Abstract Expressionists, likely pushing renewed interest in the school and sending values through the stratosphere. How ironic that the habits of an artist who despised the commercial art world more than any other artist in history, in fact taking his contempt and disdain to the level of an art form unto itself, may be responsible for the biggest windfall the commercial art world has ever experienced.
Collectors in possession of paintings by de Kooning, Motherwell, Pollock, Hare and Rothko must be drooling–and it will be thanks to the man who hated each and every one of them, their galleries and their collectors. In the end Still’s war against the commercial art world may prove to be the most brilliant commercial marketing strategy in the history of commercial art. And then there is one other interesting point to consider. Who exactly has determined that Clyfford Still is one of– if not the greatest of the Abstract Expressionists– and one of the artistic geniuses of the 20th Century? Well, Clyfford for one and then, of course, the denizens of the commercial art world that Clyfford Still so arrogantly consigned to Hell.
Don’t get me wrong. I profoundly love these paintings. But I am much more in awe of the grand opera that this artist has created as his legacy. And like Picasso, one might argue that he was more of a showman and theatrical genius than an artist. And the artist who has best been remembered for his condemnation of the commerical art world may likely end up being remembered as having produced the most commercially valuable collection of paintings in art history. Clyfford Still is either furious or laughing his ass off.
Still is justly famous for anticipating one of my own masterpieces, as noticed by Leslie. Of course, some Philistines saw a greater resemblance to a chocolate chip cookie, but that’s their problem. :)
Actually, I admit I’m not a great fan of the Still paintings I’ve seen, but I find them very interesting. And I would love to see a bunch together. I think one of the things possible in this situation is to really get a good understanding of Still’s development over time.
It would be interesting to know more of the back stories on why Still was so anti-commercial and how Denver got the museum. I wonder if they’re allowed to sell any of it.
I’m also wondering if Still constitutes a counter-example to Arthur’s and my speculations the last few days on the role of an artistic and cultural community. Did Still have artist friends who knew his work and formed some kind of active community, or was he nearly isolated?
It is pretty easy to understand Still’s position, regardless of his intentions, but my sympathies are also limited by my lack of appreciation for his work.
Denver seems like a good place for them as they are somewhat above the treeline, Big, Sparse and Rocky, and have, maybe even some underlying Cowboy’s determined independence.
Interestingly, the issue of how they are viewed together has made me rethink the Barnes Collection. I have always sided with the collection staying together (it has been a favorite Viewing Experience) as Barnes insisted but I now wonder: why does he have the final say? Because he had the money to own them? Maybe Renoir didn’t want his paintings to be seen ALWAYS next to a fork, etc.
My thoughs wandered pretty far, eventually ending here: What if I was rich and I really really really despised Still’s work. Does the collector have the right to destroy? What a terrible thought.
A fascinating post. What fun!
Yesterday, the NYT had an article on an exhibition of Hélio Oiticica’s work in Houston, including his abstract painting. Today, we hear about Clyfford Still’s work going to Denver. A revival of abstract art in the middle of the country.
His relationship with galleries and museums sounds a little extreme. The ultimate denunciation in the later part of the 20th century must have been to compare something to Nazi gas chambers.
At the danger of beating a dead horse, here we have another artist with a ‘peculiar mind’ who ended up doing only abstract paintings .
I’d grant that it’s an unusual mind that would prefer abstract art (as artist or viewer). Of course, that kind of unusual is very good, in my view. I might even accept “peculiar.” I just won’t go so far as “diseased,” if only for reasons of self-incrimination.
Steve,
Isn’t art by definition something ‘unusual’.
You know that I love your abstract photography.
My opinion is that it is better not to get stuck in something: A farmer, only growing potatoes – potatoes of various kinds – would eventually deplete her soil.
Perhaps that is like Rothko painting rectangles that become more and more monochromatic
I find it amusing to think that an artist who refused marketing altogether, who laid down the kinds of conditions that would guarantee that he would have real trouble getting exhibitions, etc., should be accused, after his death, of being a Picasso-like “showman.” The marketing folks just rolled over in their graves (as did, perhaps Still.) Somehow the rewards beyond the grave don’t seem adequate to be seen as showmanship. But the grand opera is good!
It’s his name that gets to me — why not Clifford Styll?
In actual fact, I love Still’s work, always have. But I had no idea that he had done so much. If it gets dumped on the market all at once, of course, its value will be greatly lessened — scarcity being one of art’s presumed selling points.
Now, Birgit, you should try liking Rothko. At the Portland Art Museum there are a couple of all black paintings on heavy paper (each about 10 feet by 10 feet) by one of Rothko’s contemporaries whose name escapes me — Noland? — anyway, they are quite wonderful. Exhibited together, one is at a slightly wonky angle and so a widening white streak of wall can be seen between these two humoungous sheets of interestingly textured black elements. They have a real force.
On the other hand, my smart aleck 12 year old granddaughter said about them: “That’s what gives modern art a bad name.” But I think she was just being snarky.
No, what gives modern art a bad time is whenever I’m cleaning my shoes and I spill black shoe polish on newsprint and think to myself…hmmm…I’m pretty sure I’ve seen this in the Guggenheim.
June,
I like a Rothko print in my daughter’s office. It is red and cheerful.
But I do find it peculiar that some people are inclined to produce the same type of simple geometric form over decades of their life. Or, like in the case of Clyfford Still, patterns that integrate in similar ways.
The last few days, I have been obsessing over rectangles. If I continue doing that, how long do you think it would it take until, drawing with my eyes closed like Jean Magnano-Bollinger, I would only draw rectangles while recording my brain processes?
Birgit,
An interesting question — can you record your brain processes (while obsessively drawing rectangles with your eyes closed) using computer/electronic technology? And what would you use for a control — eyes open? Circles? Squares?
oops, I think I misunderstood your question — how long would all your brain processes turn into rectangles? Was that it?
I’m afraid I don’t even have a snarky answer <snort> — I’m fond of indeterminate curved lines, myself.
Perhaps you and I aren’t old enough yet to have gotten to the point where we can spend the rest of our lives on a single shape or integrated pattern. Truly I love looking at the colors of black, the shadings that can be created, the textures that pop out in the midst of the monochrome. But I can’t bring myself to create them — I always get distracted. I can like them without emulating, which is a cheerful thought.
I suppose to burn all these painting on the backyard.
I have recently become very interesting in Clyfford Still’s paintings and his life in general after hearing of his wife’s death and the sale of her last home. I lived two houses down from Patricia Still and I stopped by her home to say hello when I moved in but didn’t see her very much after that.
Their home was recently sold and I obtained a piano at an estate auction that belonged to Clyfford Still which is when my interest in his paintings began.
After speaking to countless numbers of people I have determined that Still’s paintings are never to be sold and the reason they are to be kept together is because he believed that they each transitioned into each other. People who knew him have said that he believed the paintings had a flow to them that could only be seen when they were shown side my side. I think it’s wonderful that his art will be displayed together in a museum just as he wished. He lead a very modest life with his wife and was nearly secluded from any other artist which I believe makes his art even more anticipated to be seen.
Alexis,
You did not tell us whether you yourself like his painting.
I love his painting and his style. There are some peices that I don’t quite understand but most of his work I find both interesting and beautiful. I cannot wait to take a trip to the museum and see his work all together.
I remember seeing a number of Stills in Buffalo some years ago. Their chronology seemed a reverse of their appearance as the earlier pieces were relatively behaved and appealing with the latest in harsh colors and the paint attacked to the surface in that torn manner. Judging from my small exposure, I’d have to say that there is justification for juxtaposition of the whole. However, that said, wouldn’t we all like to have our work arrayed in some fashion in our own personal museums? I would tend to put Mr.Still’s recalcitrance down to predilection. Until recently Lee Bonticou was content to do her magic on some farm in Pa. with small regard for the gallery scene.
Forgot to mention: my dentist looks a lot like Clyfford Still and is quick to cast his own aspersions on the present state of art – especially when I am reduced to gargled replies.
If I hadn’t read this strange story, I would hardly glance at these paintings.
Having looked at them, I feel profoundly unmoved. They remind me of the patterns to be found on some airplane or bus seats. Is this just a problem of viewing images on the internet?
If this is going to rewrite the history of abstract expressionism, it indicates to me that abstract expressionism doesn’t have much content… Wait a minute, well, you know what I mean. I’m not a big fan of abstract expressionism, but I feel like the genre is getting a raw deal here if it can be taken over by one nut with an attitude.
I prefer Palmer’s linoleum to this work by a vast margin.