For a minimalist artist, I've always found the work of Dan Flavin to be rather maximal. While the work does ultimately boil down to geometry and theories of space and placement, he uses hooks that deceive even the most lament of art observers into a state of transfixion. It is that wonderful deceitfulness that is on display at the massive new Dan Flavin exhibit at David Zwirner Gallery, "Corners, Barriers, and Corridors."
From 1963 to 1996, Flavin utilized fluorescent lamps to create his self-described "situations" of light and color. Flavin's work was always highly conceptual, or at least as conceptual as the other so-proclaimed "minimalist artists" of his time period. But I feel like his work may have been easier to digest than many of his peers for the minimalism skeptical. His work is very beautiful, profoundly so. Though it's hard to argue his work offers anything in the way of the transcendental, the delicate balance of colors, lights, and shapes is very satisfying to the eye upon any glance. As someone who isn't overly enthused with minimalist artists (or, uneducated about them), Flavin's work has always elicited a real jolt of enthusiasm into the aesthetically sensitive aspects of my brain. The new David Zwirner show was particularly beautiful.
The show, that opens to the public today, used "corners, barriers and corridors in fluorescent light from Dan Flavin" (which was presented by the artist at the Saint Louis Art Museum in 1973) as its jumping off point. There are three main installations set up within the exhibition, each representing a corner, barrier, or corridor and all offer a look at how Flavin sought to redefine space with his light configurations and used three forms of space as his conceptual antagonist.
The corridor in pink and yellow, "untitled (to Barry, Mike, Chuck and Leonard"), is probably the best example in the exhibition of Flavin's mastery in the altering of perceptions toward space. While the corridor technically blocks one off from crossing one side of the corridor to the next, it acts as a trigger to your brain that makes you want to walk towards it. Physically, it makes the opposite of the room inaccessible, but mentally it makes the room appear as not only as if you can walk through it, but you should. Flavin's work had an emotional level to it that is like other minimalists, very hard to define, but so thoroughly existent all the same. It makes it very hard to decide what you feel about his work. It makes the viewer confuse senses for emotions.