Given that minimalism arose as a rejection of anything representative of outside reality, adopting a “what you see is what you get” approach, unconfined to the academic, why do passersby often require context to find minimalist art significant and not just at-a-glance art? This is a case in which I (a somewhat modern art naysayer) found depth in the art style and how experiencing Richard Serra’s work metamorphosed my long-held notions regarding the art movement.
Upon the first encounter with Serra’s Torqued Ellipses, I didn’t fully grasp their complexity but they were visually charming in a way that was unprecedented for me when viewing contemporary art. Perhaps immediately captivating was the sheer magnitude of the pieces, but beyond their shock value, the structures instinctually lured me to explore beyond my initial impressions- and this, I think, is at the heart of their impact.
My deeper understanding of Serra’s work didn’t come from secondary opinions or research, as I often seek when trying to find meaning in art that doesn’t innately move me, but instead, I understood their complexity first-hand, through interaction.While sculptures prior to the post-minimalist movement were concerned and played with elements of color, form, line, shape, space, texture, and value, Serra, along with many process artists of the ‘60s and ‘70s, incorporated movement as a focal point in their work. More than this, Serra focuses on destabilizing the physical participation of the body and its spatial relationship to his work, while equally accentuating the spatial distortion of his work within its surrounding spaces.
Distinctly, Serra’s pieces invite you past the surface and encourage the viewer to experience their hollowed inner and sub-structures; ones you only uncover in movement- while your senses drive away the autonomy of the work and thus transform your cognitive state to explore your innermost curiosities. It’s not to say that Michelangelo’s piece doesn’t have depth beyond its beauty (this would be absurd) but its influence of time and place in history guides the viewer’s perception, while Serra’s breeds ambivalence and intellectual freedom- both impactful yet contrasting approaches.
Even more, Serra notoriously combines an element of risk as he toys with the viewer’s comfort level. He dwarfs, encloses, and challenges the space between your optical and physical awareness. His torqued ellipses elicit fear while luring the viewer into the unknown, pressing, and confining spaces of his labyrinths, all while the viewer fears the structure’s disassembly in amazement and inquisitiveness.
Obsession is what it comes down to. It is difficult to think without obsession, and it is impossible to create something without a foundation that is rigorous, incontrovertible, and, in fact, to some degree repetitive. Repetition is the ritual of obsession. Repetition is a way to jumpstart the indecision of beginning. To persevere and to begin over and over again is to continue the obsession with work. Work comes out of work. In order to work you must already be working.
—Richard Serra
A true search-and-discover piece- there is nothing passive or conceptually one-dimensional about Serra’s sculptures which live firmly on the grounds of the Dia: Beacon. His work is a contradiction, meant to stir curiosity, doubt, fear, but above all; to fully comprehend his work, you must move, observe, and ultimately, work. Because without movement this piece might as well be viewed at-a-glance.
