In the Golden Age of Air Travel in the early 1950s, people saw for the first time an aerial view that revealed the divided lines and rectangles of farmers’ fields. For Richard Diebenkorn (1922-1993), this geometry was taken from his early landscape paintings, such as his Sausalito, Albuquerque and Berkeley series. Full of vibrant color and sharp angles, all of his work is informed by landscape, landscape order, vertical and horizontal planes, curved and vertical vistas, the Pacific Ocean and the brilliant sun. When other artists gravitated to New York as a happening place for art, Diebenkorn tried for a year and returned to the west, where he lived, painting every day for the rest of his life.
From early sketches, he moved to figurative paintings in the 1960s. Female silhouettes, sometimes featureless, figures in the background in blocks of color. It evokes a subtle, contemplative narrative, one woman drinking coffee, another sitting looking out the window, smoking a cigarette, standing next to a friend. These simple actions with beautiful bodies resting in peace are a mystery—what are they thinking? Diebenkorn’s figures are structural, simplified forms, small and singular, with space around them that separates the figure. During these early years, he continued to paint while still alive, as a beauty Still Life with Orange Peel. You can feel the California sun in the orange of the peel, splashed across the white striped tablecloth. His women have no sleeves or striped skirts. Apparently it’s warm in his part of the world.
Diebenkorn’s rise to fame was with his Ocean Park series that began in 1967, culminating in 135 paintings. The strong division of space, the fusion of exterior and interior, comes from his studio in Ocean Park, Santa Monica. Windows, roof and wall moldings, strong clear sunlight and shadow formations are a combination of line and action, calligraphy and color. The paintings are sensual and moving, as if you are witnessing the artist’s process. He worked and reworked, sitting for long periods in his studio just watching. He said “he had a tendency to be frugal and solitary… Sometimes I focus on the chair… I think it’s about to end, the last words are famous, and then a year later I’m still working on it.”
His blues, turquoise, cobalt and ochres are local, but these are like graphs, a map of the world. Black stripes may line one edge, sharp and clear, short diagonal to the corner. He was a stubborn, methodical and calm professional. He worked on a series of engravings, over and over until he found the right amount of blending, texture, edge. He sometimes destroyed paintings because they were too realistic, but he was a gentle and slow painter. The late critic Peter Schjeldahl said that Diebenkorn had “the kind stubbornness that marks many of the Bay Area’s best painters,” including David Park and Wayne Thiebaud. Diebenkorn was shy and reserved, avoiding crowds and popular with the students he taught for years at the San Francisco Art Institute, the University of Southern California, and other schools. One student said, “He taught how to approach a person but maintain the intensity of an unintentional painting. Diebenkorn combined the two.”
In 1992, Gagosian put on the Richard Diebenkorn show, the last solo show before Diebenkorn’s death. Recently, Gagosian collaborated with the Diebenkorn Foundation and now represents his work. I was lucky enough to see the Diebenkorn exhibit at Gagosian’s Madison Avenue gallery this past December. Curated by Jasper Sharp, writer and filmmaker, the main gallery showcases many interesting paintings and works on paper spanning six decades. Larry Gagosian knew the artist in California and visited his studio several times. “It is a great honor for me and the gallery to carry his legacy forward,” the dealer said in a statement. There is also a four-volume monograph, Richard Diebenkorn: Catalog Raisonné2,176 pages from Yale University Press. Copies are available but hard to find.
Diebenkorn was a pioneer. A great admirer of Matisse and Cézanne, he appeared to be renaming them both: “I’m definitely a traditional artist, I’m not avant-garde at all,” said the artist. “I wanted to follow the tradition and extend it.” He did that, skipping any particular period. He is one of the great talents of the 20th century who was not diluted by styles or the sound of ideas. His training, constant self-criticism and continuous self-examination motivated him to continue working. Throughout his career, he was fearless in his enthusiasm.
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