Jules Olitski: Color, Surface & the Art of Painting

Untitled-Seven (1960) | Jules Olitski

Jules Olitski spent more than half a century asking what paint could do when almost everything traditionally expected of a painting was stripped away.

Figures disappeared. Landscapes dissolved. Drawing retreated toward the edges. Brushstrokes sometimes vanished almost completely. In their place came enormous expanses of color that appeared to hover, drift, glow, or dissolve across the canvas.

During the 1960s, Olitski became one of the artists most closely associated with Color Field painting, joining figures such as Helen Frankenthaler, Morris Louis, Kenneth Noland, and Jack Bush in exploring a form of abstraction in which color itself became one of the primary subjects.

Olitski took that idea in a particularly radical direction. He stained canvas, poured paint, sprayed pigment with industrial equipment, worked color into surfaces so thin that the canvas seemed almost atmospheric, and later reversed course dramatically by building paintings from dense layers of thick, tactile paint.

The techniques changed.

His fascination with color and surface did not.

๐ŸŽ‚ From Snovsk to Brooklyn

Jules Olitski was born Jevel Demikovsky on March 27, 1922, in Snovsk, a town then within the Soviet Union and now located in Ukraine.

His father died before Jules was born, and when the future artist was still very young, his mother and grandmother emigrated with him to the United States. The family settled in Brooklyn, where his mother later married Hyman Olitsky.

The boy eventually adopted his stepfather’s surname.

Growing up in New York placed Olitski within reach of museums, art schools, galleries, and one of the rapidly developing centers of modern art. He showed an aptitude for drawing from childhood and increasingly pursued art seriously.

That pursuit would eventually carry him through traditional academic training, military service, Paris, New York, and a career that repeatedly challenged the very techniques he had been taught.

โœ๏ธ Learning to Draw the Traditional Way

Before Olitski became known for paintings that appeared to contain almost no drawing at all, he received rigorous academic training.

He studied at the National Academy of Design and the Beaux-Arts Institute of Design in New York, where drawing, composition, anatomy, and traditional artistic discipline formed an important part of his education.

This background matters because Olitski’s later abstraction was not created by someone who had never learned conventional technique.

He knew how to draw.

He knew how to construct an image.

He knew the traditions he was eventually attempting to escape.

Like many important abstract artists of the 20th century, Olitski did not arrive at apparent simplicity because he lacked traditional skills. He arrived there by gradually deciding which of those skills no longer served the paintings he wanted to make.

๐Ÿช– World War II & the U.S. Army

Olitski’s artistic education was interrupted by World War II.

He served in the United States Army before returning to art after the war. Like thousands of American veterans, he later benefited from the G.I. Bill, which provided educational opportunities that profoundly affected postwar American culture.

For artists, Europe remained particularly attractive.

Paris had dominated international modern art for decades, and although New York was beginning to challenge its position after the war, young American painters still traveled to France seeking contact with European traditions and contemporary artistic ideas.

Olitski went to Paris in the late 1940s.

The experience helped him dismantle much of what his earlier academic education had taught him.

๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ท Trying to Forget How to Paint

In Paris, Olitski enrolled at the Acadรฉmie de la Grande Chaumiรจre, although his most important artistic education appears to have taken place outside formal classrooms.

He later described experimenting with painting while blindfolded.

The exercise sounds eccentric, but the purpose was serious.

Olitski wanted to interrupt the habits produced by years of academic training. If his eyes could no longer supervise every mark, perhaps his hand could discover something less controlled and more immediate.

This struggle between knowledge and spontaneity would continue throughout his career.

An artist trains for years to gain control.

Then sometimes the artist has to find ways of losing it.

For Olitski, abstraction became partly a process of removing assumptions about what a successful painting should look like.

๐Ÿ—ฝ Returning to New York

Olitski returned to the United States in the early 1950s and continued his education, eventually earning a master’s degree in art from New York University.

He also began teaching.

Teaching would remain an important part of his career, with positions at institutions including New York University, the State University of New York at New Paltz, and Long Island University’s C. W. Post campus.

Meanwhile, the New York art world was undergoing an extraordinary transformation.

Abstract Expressionism had moved American painting onto the international stage. Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, Mark Rothko, Barnett Newman, Franz Kline, and others had helped establish enormous canvases, abstraction, physical gesture, and ambitious claims for painting itself.

For a younger artist such as Olitski, their achievement was both liberating and intimidating.

The question became unavoidable.

What could painting do next?

๐ŸŽจ After Abstract Expressionism

By the late 1950s, younger painters were beginning to move away from some of the characteristics associated with Abstract Expressionism.

The gestures could feel too dramatic.

The brushwork could become too obviously expressive.

The painter’s personality sometimes seemed to dominate every inch of the canvas.

Artists including Helen Frankenthaler, Morris Louis, Kenneth Noland, and Jules Olitski began exploring another possibility.

What if paint behaved more like color than handwriting?

What if a canvas did not record every motion of the artist’s arm?

What if color could spread through the surface rather than sit heavily on top of it?

These questions helped create the loose group of approaches eventually described as Color Field painting and Post-Painterly Abstraction.

Olitski became one of the central figures.

๐ŸŸฃ The Stain Paintings

Around the end of the 1950s, Olitski began experimenting with staining canvas.

Rather than treating the canvas as a neutral support that would later be covered by paint, staining allowed pigment to penetrate directly into the fabric.

The distinction is important.

Traditional oil paint frequently creates a physical layer sitting on top of the canvas. Stain painting can make color seem inseparable from the support itself.

The canvas becomes color rather than merely carrying it.

Olitski’s early stain paintings frequently contain large, rounded forms floating inside broad fields. Works such as Purple Mekle Lippis from 1961 demonstrate this stage particularly well.

The shapes can resemble enormous cells, planets, openings, or abstract organic bodies, but they resist becoming recognizable objects.

They exist primarily as relationships of color.

๐ŸŸ  Color Without a Story

One of the pleasures of Olitski’s paintings is that color does not need to stand for anything else.

Yellow does not have to represent sunlight.

Blue does not need to become sky.

Red does not automatically represent anger.

Color can simply be color.

That may sound obvious, but it represented an important transformation in modern painting.

For centuries, color had largely served something else. It described a robe, a face, a landscape, a flower, a building, a sunset, or a dramatic event.

Modern abstraction gradually liberated color from that responsibility.

Olitski pushed that freedom exceptionally far.

A viewer could stand before a large canvas and respond to yellow, violet, green, pink, orange, or gray without needing to translate those colors into a story.

Seeing was enough.

๐Ÿ–ผ๏ธ Clement Greenberg & Post-Painterly Abstraction

Art critic Clement Greenberg became one of Olitski’s most influential supporters.

Greenberg had previously championed major figures associated with Abstract Expressionism and became increasingly interested in younger painters whose work emphasized flatness, color, optical clarity, and the physical properties of the painting itself.

Olitski fit many of those concerns.

Greenberg included him among the artists associated with the tendencies he called Post-Painterly Abstraction.

The critic’s support helped establish Olitski’s reputation, but it also created complications.

Greenberg was enormously influential and increasingly controversial. Artists favored by him could sometimes be dismissed by critics who regarded his formalist ideas as too restrictive.

Olitski’s work consequently became entangled with debates about criticism almost as much as debates about painting.

Yet the paintings themselves kept changing.

Olitski proved considerably less predictable than the theoretical labels surrounding him.

๐ŸŒซ๏ธ Discovering the Spray Gun

Olitski’s most famous technical breakthrough came when he began spraying paint.

Instead of applying pigment primarily with brushes, he used spray equipment to distribute remarkably thin layers of color across enormous canvases.

The technique allowed him to produce fields unlike conventional brush painting.

There might be no obvious stroke.

No clear beginning.

No single point from which the composition appeared to expand.

Colors overlapped as mist.

One hue dissolved into another.

Areas became denser or thinner depending on how much paint accumulated.

The canvas could look less like a painted object than colored atmosphere.

This became the Olitski style most closely associated with the 1960s.

โ˜๏ธ Painting the Air

The spray paintings produced a strange visual contradiction.

They were physical objects made from canvas and acrylic paint, sometimes measuring many feet across.

Yet the surfaces could appear almost immaterial.

Color seemed suspended in air.

A violet haze might dissolve into blue.

Orange could emerge gradually from gray.

Pink might seem to hover over another color without forming a clearly defined shape.

Olitski was interested in creating paintings whose color appeared to exist in front of the canvas rather than simply on it.

He famously imagined color as something that could seem sprayed into the air and remain suspended there.

The painting would still be flat.

The experience of looking at it would not.

๐Ÿงน Moving Drawing to the Edge

One of Olitski’s most ingenious strategies involved pushing more obvious lines and marks toward the boundaries of the canvas.

The center might contain an almost uninterrupted atmospheric field of sprayed color.

Near an edge, however, a stronger streak, line, or patch of contrasting paint could suddenly appear.

The effect makes the viewer intensely aware of the painting’s physical limits.

Instead of using lines to divide the interior into recognizable forms, Olitski could use them to emphasize where the painting ended.

Drawing had not disappeared completely.

It had migrated.

The edge became active.

This was especially significant in paintings whose sprayed interiors seemed potentially limitless. The mist suggested continuation, while the marks around the border reminded viewers that they were still looking at a specific rectangular object.

๐ŸŒˆ Pink Alert

Olitski’s Pink Alert, painted in 1966, captures many of these ideas.

Most of the canvas consists of an enormous field of rose and yellow that seems to shift almost imperceptibly from one region to another.

The color appears atmospheric.

Then the edges interrupt that softness.

Thin streaks of other colors appear near the margins, creating a tension between the vast central field and the physical boundary of the canvas.

The painting received major recognition at the Corcoran Gallery of Art and became an important example of Olitski’s mature Color Field approach.

A reproduction cannot entirely communicate what happens at this scale.

The viewer does not simply inspect a patch of pink.

The color occupies a substantial portion of the field of vision.

That physical experience was essential.

๐Ÿ“ Why Scale Matters

Color Field painting often depends heavily upon size.

A small patch of violet behaves like a sample.

An eight-foot expanse of violet becomes an environment.

Olitski understood the difference.

His large paintings encourage viewers to stand close enough that the canvas begins extending beyond ordinary peripheral attention.

There may be no central image telling the eye where to settle.

Instead, vision moves across an expanse.

Different regions become visible gradually.

Subtle variations begin to matter.

The painting does not tell a story from left to right.

It surrounds the eye with relationships.

That is one reason these paintings can lose so much when reproduced at the size of a book page or computer screen.

Scale is part of the content.

๐Ÿ‡ฎ๐Ÿ‡น The 1966 Venice Biennale

By the middle of the 1960s, Olitski had become an important figure in contemporary American painting.

In 1966, he was among the artists selected to represent the United States at the Venice Biennale, alongside Helen Frankenthaler, Ellsworth Kelly, and Roy Lichtenstein.

The group reflected just how dramatically American art had diversified.

Lichtenstein transformed commercial imagery into Pop Art.

Kelly pursued pure relationships of shape and color.

Frankenthaler developed luminous stained abstractions.

Olitski explored atmospheric surfaces through sprayed pigment.

Only a generation earlier, Paris had been widely regarded as the unquestioned center of modern art.

By the 1960s, American artists were occupying a very different international position.

Olitski’s presence at Venice was part of that larger transformation.

๐Ÿ›๏ธ The Corcoran Years

Washington, D.C., became particularly important to Olitski’s career.

The Corcoran Gallery of Art exhibited and collected his work, and Pink Alert received the William A. Clark Prize and Corcoran Gold Medal.

His association with the Washington art world also connected him with the broader development of Color Field painting in the capital, where Morris Louis, Kenneth Noland, Gene Davis, and other artists explored strikingly different approaches to color and abstraction.

Washington Color School and New York Color Field painting were never exactly the same thing, but there was substantial overlap in ideas, friendships, criticism, exhibitions, and techniques.

Color itself had become a major artistic event.

Olitski stood close to the center of the conversation.

๐Ÿ”ต Unlocked

Another important example is Unlocked from 1966, now in the collection of the National Gallery of Art.

The painting uses broad, softly shifting areas of orange and gray.

There is no recognizable subject.

Nothing in the picture needs to be decoded.

Instead, the experience depends upon subtle transitions.

Where exactly does one color stop?

Where does the other begin?

The boundary cannot always be located precisely.

That uncertainty gives the apparently simple surface much of its life.

Olitski’s strongest spray paintings reward looking precisely because they initially appear to contain so little.

The longer the eye remains, the more distinctions become visible.

๐Ÿงช Paint as Technology

Olitski’s use of spray equipment also belongs to a larger postwar moment in which artists increasingly adopted industrial materials and processes.

Traditional oil paint and brushes were no longer mandatory.

Artists worked with acrylics, plastics, fluorescent pigments, commercial paints, spray guns, aluminum, Plexiglas, fiberglass, and manufacturing techniques borrowed from industries outside the art world.

That experimentation feels especially appropriate to the 1960s.

It was the era of plastics, aerospace engineering, automobiles, synthetic materials, mass production, and enormous technological confidence.

Olitski did not paint rockets or futuristic cities.

Yet his methods were unmistakably part of this transformed material culture.

The spray gun allowed a painter to create a surface that a conventional brush could never reproduce in quite the same way.

Technology changed the appearance of painting.

๐Ÿ—ฟ Moving Into Sculpture

Olitski did not confine his experiments to canvas.

During the late 1960s, he began producing sculpture, and in 1969 the Metropolitan Museum of Art presented an exhibition devoted to this new body of work.

The sculptures demonstrate that his concern with surface could move into three dimensions.

Color still mattered.

So did shape.

But the viewer could no longer understand the work from a single fixed position.

A sculpture changes as someone moves around it.

One side disappears while another becomes visible.

Light alters the surface.

Color interacts with real space rather than the illusionistic space of a painting.

For an artist so interested in where surfaces begin and end, sculpture offered an obvious new problem.

๐Ÿ‘€ Painting Versus Sculpture

Olitski thought carefully about the difference between looking at a painting and looking at sculpture.

A painting can generally be encountered from the front, with the eye moving across its surface.

A sculpture demands movement.

The viewer must walk around it.

Different viewpoints arrive one after another.

This distinction allowed Olitski to reconsider many of the same questions he had been asking in paint.

What happens at an edge?

How does color alter form?

Where does an object stop and the surrounding space begin?

The shift into sculpture was not therefore an abandonment of painting.

It was another way of testing the visual problems that had occupied him for years.

๐ŸŽญ When Color Field Fell Out of Fashion

Art movements rarely remain fashionable forever.

By the late 1960s and 1970s, the art world was changing rapidly.

Minimalism, Conceptual Art, performance, video, installation, feminist art, Earth art, and other approaches challenged the assumption that painting remained the central medium of contemporary art.

Color Field painting also became strongly associated with Clement Greenberg’s critical theories, and opposition to Greenberg sometimes spilled over into assessments of artists he had supported.

Olitski’s reputation consequently went through periods of reassessment and neglect.

Some critics regarded his paintings as overly beautiful or decorative.

Others saw continued experimentation.

Olitski himself kept working.

He had never believed that the history of painting had reached an endpoint.

๐Ÿ–Œ๏ธ Bringing the Brush Back

One of the most fascinating aspects of Olitski’s career is that he did not spend the rest of his life endlessly reproducing the misty spray paintings that had made him famous.

His work changed dramatically.

During the 1970s and afterward, texture began returning.

Paint became more physical.

Brushes, scrapers, and other tools left increasingly visible evidence across the surface.

The artist who had once tried to eliminate traditional brushwork now embraced it again.

This was not necessarily a retreat.

Olitski had already explored how little physical paint a painting could appear to contain.

Now he could investigate the opposite.

How much material could the surface hold?

๐Ÿงฑ Paint Becomes Matter

Later Olitski paintings can be extraordinarily tactile.

Paint may accumulate in ridges, clumps, crusts, streaks, and layers.

The surface stops behaving like mist and begins behaving almost like geology.

Light catches the raised pigment.

Shadows form within the painting itself.

Color no longer seems purely optical because it possesses actual physical depth.

This shift surprises viewers familiar only with Olitski’s 1960s work.

Yet there is continuity beneath the change.

He was still investigating surface.

Earlier, the question involved making paint almost disappear.

Later, it involved allowing paint’s physical substance to become impossible to ignore.

Thinness and thickness were two ends of the same investigation.

๐ŸŒ„ Landscape Returns Without Really Returning

In later decades, Olitski sometimes produced paintings that seem to approach landscape.

Horizontal divisions appear.

Colors suggest sky, earth, horizon, weather, or water.

The titles can encourage those associations.

Yet Olitski resisted turning these paintings into straightforward representations of particular places.

He remained interested in the painting as an independent structure.

A blue expanse might remind us of sky without becoming a painted sky.

A dark horizontal area could resemble land without describing a specific field or mountain.

This ambiguity allowed Olitski to bring memories of landscape into abstraction without abandoning the concerns that had defined his career.

The painting could evoke nature without illustrating it.

๐ŸŒŠ Working in New Hampshire

Olitski eventually spent much of his time working in New Hampshire, where he maintained a studio in Meredith.

The surrounding landscape inevitably entered his visual experience.

Water, weather, changing seasons, sky, vegetation, and shifting light provided a very different environment from New York City.

His later works sometimes seem more willing to acknowledge this physical world.

Yet even when a painting appears landscape-like, Olitski continued insisting on the autonomy of the painting.

The surface still had to function as a painting before it functioned as an image of anything else.

That conviction remained surprisingly consistent across decades of stylistic change.

๐ŸŽจ Color Never Left

No matter how dramatically Olitski altered his techniques, color remained fundamental.

The stain paintings used it as broad form.

The spray paintings transformed it into atmosphere.

The later impasto works embedded it within thick physical surfaces.

Works on paper allowed him to experiment with combinations at smaller scales.

Printmaking offered still another set of possibilities.

What changed was the relationship between color and material.

Sometimes color appeared weightless.

Sometimes it looked dense enough to touch.

Sometimes several hues blended gradually.

Elsewhere they collided.

Olitski did not appear interested in finding one perfect method.

The continuing search was the work.

๐Ÿ–๏ธ Works on Paper

Olitski’s paintings can be monumental, but his smaller works on paper reveal another side of his practice.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art holds later works employing gouache, watercolor, acrylic, and pastel, while the National Gallery preserves drawings and mixed-media works from different periods.

Working on paper allowed faster experimentation.

Colors could be tested.

Marks could remain more immediate.

Ideas developed at intimate scale could coexist with enormous canvases that required completely different physical procedures.

These works also undermine the idea that Olitski’s art was dependent upon one signature technique.

The spray gun was important.

It was never the entire story.

๐Ÿท๏ธ The Strange Story of His Name

Even the name Jules Olitski contains an accidental element.

He had earlier used the surname Olitsky, derived from his stepfather’s family name.

According to accounts of his career, the spelling with an โ€œiโ€ became established after it appeared incorrectly in connection with an exhibition during the late 1950s.

Rather than correcting the mistake permanently, the artist eventually adopted Olitski as his professional name.

It is a wonderfully appropriate detail for an artist interested in accidents, material processes, and allowing unexpected things to influence the finished work.

The typo became permanent.

Jules Olitski was born twice: once as Jevel Demikovsky and again as the name the art world came to know.

๐Ÿ–ผ๏ธ The Problem With Reproducing Olitski

Olitski is one of those painters who can be particularly difficult to understand through reproduction.

A photograph reduces scale.

Subtle color transitions may disappear.

Texture becomes flattened.

A painting sixteen feet across becomes several inches wide on a screen.

The physical sensation of standing in front of a large color field vanishes almost completely.

This problem affects many abstract painters, but it is especially important for Olitski.

His art depends on relationships that unfold across actual surfaces.

A tiny difference in pigment density may matter.

A colored streak at the very edge may alter the entire field.

The distance between the viewer and the canvas changes what becomes visible.

Looking at an Olitski reproduction can tell us what the painting looks like.

Standing before the painting tells us what it does.

๐ŸŽจ Beauty Became Controversial

Olitski’s work also entered a period when beauty itself became a complicated artistic subject.

His colors could be extraordinarily seductive.

Pink, lavender, orange, blue, yellow, green, silver, and smoky gray spread across huge surfaces with seemingly effortless grace.

To some critics, this visual pleasure became suspicious.

Art in the late 1960s and 1970s increasingly engaged politics, identity, language, institutional structures, mass media, and conceptual problems.

A beautiful abstract painting could appear detached from those concerns.

Olitski never abandoned painting to satisfy changing fashions.

That stubbornness sometimes hurt his critical standing.

It also allowed him to continue exploring questions that genuinely interested him.

๐Ÿง‘โ€๐ŸŽจ More Than a Greenberg Artist

It is difficult to discuss Jules Olitski without mentioning Clement Greenberg.

It is equally important not to let Greenberg consume the entire story.

Critical support helped Olitski enormously, and the aesthetic ideas associated with Greenberg influenced the context in which his work was understood.

But artists rarely fit perfectly inside the theories constructed around them.

Olitski’s later paintings are evidence of that independence.

The increasingly tactile surfaces, renewed brushwork, sculptural experiments, landscape suggestions, and persistent changes of technique resist the idea of an artist obediently following one formal doctrine.

Critics argued about where painting should go.

Olitski continued painting.

๐Ÿ›๏ธ Inside the Museums

Olitski’s work entered major American museum collections during his lifetime and remains represented in institutions including the National Gallery of Art, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Whitney Museum of American Art, Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, Museum of Modern Art, and others.

The museum context is particularly useful for his work because it allows viewers to compare different periods directly.

An early stain painting may look almost unrelated to a late heavily worked canvas.

A spray painting can appear nearly weightless beside a sculpture.

Works on paper introduce still more variations.

Seen together, the pieces reveal that Olitski’s real signature was not one recognizable appearance.

It was experimentation.

๐Ÿ–ผ๏ธ Lysander-1

The Guggenheim’s Lysander-1, completed in 1970, offers an excellent example of Olitski’s mature spray technique.

The museum describes a grainy field in which color shifts gradually between different densities and areas of light and darkness.

There is little conventional drawing inside the central field.

Instead, hues overlap and dissolve into one another.

The eye searches for boundaries that refuse to become entirely stable.

The result demonstrates why the word field is so useful.

We are not looking at a collection of separate objects.

We are looking into an expanse.

๐Ÿ† A Long Career of Recognition

Olitski’s career included major exhibitions, awards, museum acquisitions, international presentations, and decades of critical discussion.

He participated in important exhibitions throughout the 1960s and 1970s and continued showing new work well into the 21st century.

That longevity is worth emphasizing.

Artists closely identified with one historical movement can easily become frozen in that period.

Olitski refused to freeze.

The Color Field paintings remain central to his reputation because they changed the possibilities of the painted surface.

But he worked for approximately four more decades after many of those paintings were completed.

He continued testing materials almost until the end of his life.

๐Ÿ•ฏ๏ธ Jules Olitski’s Final Years

Jules Olitski continued painting into his eighties.

Even as illness affected his final years, the desire to work remained strong.

He died in New York on February 4, 2007, at the age of 84.

By then, the art world had changed almost beyond recognition from the one he had entered after World War II.

Abstract Expressionism had risen and become history.

Pop Art had arrived.

Minimalism and Conceptual Art had challenged painting.

Photography, video, installation, performance, digital media, and countless other practices had expanded what contemporary art could mean.

Olitski remained a painter.

That persistence was not conservatism so much as conviction.

He apparently never exhausted the possibilities he saw in paint.

๐ŸŒˆ Why Jules Olitski Still Matters

Olitski matters because he treated painting as both a visual and physical experiment.

He did not assume that paint needed to behave the way painters had traditionally taught it to behave.

It could soak.

It could stain.

It could float.

It could spray.

It could accumulate.

It could become nearly invisible or aggressively material.

Most importantly, color could carry the experience without having to describe another object.

That principle places Olitski firmly within one of the great transformations of postwar art.

The painting no longer needed to represent a world somewhere else.

The canvas itself could be the event.

โ˜„๏ธ Jules Olitski & the Possibilities of Paint

Jules Olitski’s paintings sometimes appear almost impossibly simple.

A field of pink.

A cloud of violet.

A smoky gray spreading into orange.

A few lines gathered near the edge.

Yet simplicity can be deceptive.

Behind those surfaces lies a lifetime of questions about painting.

How little paint can remain visible while color still fills a canvas?

Can color appear to hover?

Can drawing disappear without the painting becoming empty?

What happens when the center becomes quiet and the edge becomes active?

How does a ten-foot field of color affect the body differently from a small picture?

Can paint feel weightless?

Can the same material later become thick enough to resemble earth or stone?

Olitski never settled those questions permanently because each answer generated another experiment.

He moved from academic drawing to abstraction, from staining to spraying, from painting to sculpture, from ethereal surfaces to dense physical textures, and from pure abstraction toward suggestions of landscape before moving elsewhere again.

Across all those changes, one conviction remained.

Paint had possibilities left.

For Jules Olitski, that was enough reason to keep painting.

๐Ÿ”— Related Articles

๐Ÿ“š Sources & Further Reading

Leave a Reply