Feb 5
Jasper Johns: Mind/Mirror Review
Jasper Johns is a 91-year-old multimedia artist. Over his career he has produced paintings, sculptures, and printworks. In 1954, Johns made the deliberate decision to “become” an artist, and no longer simply aspire to be one. He burned all his previous work to date and started producing some of the famous works we know today.
I’ve heard people use every adjective to describe his work, from words like complex and innovative to even radical. I would categorize him as contemporary—to the truest sense of the word too. Jasper was able to reflect the the times as they were—whether it was his emotions, the political schemes, or societal attitudes—they all hold an aura of what it felt like in the exact moment of him creating a print or painting. He would even paste newspaper cutouts onto canvases, which serve as a literal timestamp. In my opinion, producing work with a present-day voice is the strongest characteristic of what makes and artist, an artist. Johns is most associated with abstract expressionism, which is known for encouraging spontaneity.
Johns was the first artist to inspire me in a long time. The elevator doors opened up to a hugging wall of framed works. It’s definitely an introduction to a vast collection, but more importantly—it’s an introduction to a vast mind. Throughout this collection, we can see influences from Marcel Duchamp, Leonardo da Vinci, and Picasso, as well as influences from the 50’s or American society as a whole. In 1951, Johns was drafted for the Korean War when it was most popular to show your American patriotism; I believe this to be the catalyst behind his famous 40+ renditions of the American flag. Johns does a really good job of pulling inspiration from various places, while still managing to produce finishes that are very much in his own personality/style. Without seeing his name, we can usually distinct his work through the choice of texture. He often used a plaster finish over his paintings or manages to somehow add elements of this sophisticated chaos that spans over his prints. It’s like he paints in blotches or prints in a loose tone of geometry—words cannot seem to describe this distinction enough. It’s just…when you see a Jasper Johns’, you know it’s his. & Johns was definitely known for challenging the way people thought about painting, especially in a dimensional sense.
In 1948, Johns moved to New York City where he met his long-term lover and artist Robert Rauschenberg. Since Rauschenberg was already an established artist, he was able to help Johns develop his niche over the next few years. I think the best aspect of his career was when he took the time to hone in on the borders of his style—this, combined with the idea of depicting subjects that were readily available to “the mind” is what I believe to be the two main factors that pushed Johns into stardom.
Throughout this collection, it is apparent to me how Johns seems to really be fascinated with the idea of expressing the human experience. It’s as if he was creating a capsule to be communicated with other-world creatures through his work. He created a nine-foot sculpture of the numbers 0-9 in a repetitive pattern with a footprint in between the numbers. This footprint was of Merce Cunningham, a friend of Johns who was considered inferior compared to the prestigious ballet dancers, who were the only dancers to ever perform in the Lincoln Center at that time. The running joke of Cunningham’s footprint featured on the sculpture was said that Johns “got his foot in the door,” since the Lincoln Center owned the sculpture and Cunningham’s dreams of dancing there were farfetched. Now, however, Cunningham is known as one of the greatest dancers and choreographers, ever.
In 1961 Johns and Rauschenberg spilt, and at this time we start to see an extreme change Johns’ work. He went from using strong colors like red, yellow, and blue, to using only dark grey tones. Of course, we can assume this to be a reflection of how he was feeling during these times, but maybe we can assume that this new found independence encouraged him to try something new and step outside the box. Regardless, it was a dark era in Johns’ work. One work titled, Painting Bitten by a Man, actually featured a bite mark through it. Where does one go to bite a canvas? He even produced a grey and white painting with a “LIAR” stamp centered at the top of the canvas. If these aren’t subliminal messages, then I don’t know what would be considered one. Overall, people were not impressed. This was the first time the public grew a distaste for Johns’ work. This is also when Johns began exploring his relationship to critics in his art. Summer Critic, pictured above, is a painting of white sunglasses with “mouth” written over the shades. I find it quite amusing.
This wasn’t the end of Johns’ bad luck streak. James Meyer, Johns’ assistant, stole 22 unfinished works and sold them to a gallery in New York. Meyer was able to gross over $4 million from the sale. Apparently, Johns ordered Meyer to destroy the unfinished artworks, but instead, Meyer saw this as an opportunity for profit. He forged documents and signatures from the artist to insure the unnamed gallery owners that the artworks were a gift to him as an assistant. He even went on to cover his tracts by creating fake inventory numbers to make the works appear registered on Johns’ catalog. Meyer was Johns’ assistant for 25 years, and in 2014 he was arrested on theft charges. During this time, he turned over an additional 41 pieces of artwork that the FBI didn’t even know about! Meyer plead guilty and was ordered to pay over $13 million back to Johns and associates.
In an Untitled piece created in 2018, Johns revisited one of these unfinished works to tell the story of what happened. He added in a skeleton to the outlined charcol’d figure. “Dead inside,” are the first words that come out to me from this addition. Either Johns could feel that way after being betrayed by someone he’s work so closely with over the years, or he could be critiquing Meyer’s character—saying he’s dead inside for stabbing his friend, employer, and mentor in the back. Regardless, it’s a striking addition to the painting, despite Johns using thick lines to make the skeleton more palatable to the eye. He also uses his old newspaper trick, but this time painting it (not pasting it) to allude to the crime. I’ve heard many people say that the Philadelphia collection is almost entirely made of up of the stolen pieces.
One thing I really appreciated about Johns’ collection, was the intention to make sure a live audience would experience his art. Many of the works displayed had a 3D-affect, a blinking light, a switch, or some sort of audience-interactive aspect to it. He wanted his creations to be experienced, and it was, indeed. You would not receive the full experience of the collection, or Jasper Johns for that matter, digitally. Johns also did a good job of bringing his audience in on the process of creating the artwork. Often times he would incorporate the tools used in the piece as a part of the finished artwork. Throughout this collection, I’ve witness cans, paintbrushes, rulers and more. He also had a small collage of black and white photographs from his studio on Edisto Island in South Carolina. I really enjoyed this archive for the way it nostalgically puts you right in the moment of these creations. These photographs hold even more value now, because in 1968 Johns’ studio burned down.
Altogether, I really enjoyed this extensive collection (and I really do mean extensive). It takes up the entire 5th floor at The Whitney Museum of American Art here in New York, with artworks that range from 1950 until now. Johns still regularly goes to the studio and creates; I hear he’s said he’s going to produce work until the day he dies. Live on JJ~
xx.