Surfaces, Simulacra and Sight Simulacra peel Continually from the body’s Surface, each image Bearing the appearance of the Part it belongs to. A purposeful doubling, perhaps, but Afloat they hang Suspended as if unsure of Existence. Only for a Moment because then rapid they Migrate like birds frightened into flight. If no resistance is met, they enter the Stroma to strike the retina, Stirring sight. From there they Impact the mind, invoking inspiration. Not an engineer’s trav

Without division or interval, the body appears as pure form over content, surface without depth.

Not the growing stem or the leaf blowing in the wind; not the opening bud or the emerging radicle; not the fourfold root yearning for water.

Light Comes up behind Light Time pursues time and light comes up behind light. One sun follows another – each circle of bright ringed by a dark corona. But when eternity eclipses time and the sun is Malevichian black, the corona will be for us a light of white – the whitest light.

Adam (1951-52) by Barnett Newman Barnett Newman and the Art of Not Making Graven Images Barnett Newman was born in 1905 to Abraham and Anna Newman, Jewish immigrants from Poland who came to New York City in 1900. Although not religious, Barnett’s father was a passionate Zionist and a supporter of the National Hebrew School of the Bronx. As well as attending Hebrew school, Barnett and his brothers and sisters were educated at home by Jewish scholars from Europe. He went on to

Onement, 1 (1948) by Barnett Newman The Sublime Art of Barnett Newman The problem of a painting is physical and metaphysical, the same as I think life is physical and metaphysical – Barnett Newman Barnett Newman was born in 1905 to Abraham and Anna Newman, Jewish immigrants from Poland who came to New York City in 1900. Although not religious, Barnett’s father was a passionate Zionist and supporter of the National Hebrew School of the Bronx. As well as attending Hebrew schoo

The Potato Eaters Potato eaters – five peasant women, clothed in rags, seated round a square table in a brown room. The scene is set. Outside the frame, a famous artist inspects the dim and manifold prospect… Five chairs, two forks, an oil lamp, a tablecloth, people, a kettle, wooden beams. But nothing – not a single thing – can be fully described, recorded, depicted. Every angle of vision – each perception – refuses to yield the clock’s essence, the kettle’s nature.