Robert Irwin is a California based artist working directly with the idea of optical perception in art. Born in 1928 in Long Beach California, he worked alongside many other artists dealing with groundbreaking works in what was called the "Light and Space" movement of the 60's. Irwin began his career in the 50's and continues working until this day, at 87 years old. This major retrospective of the artist shows the changes and development in his work. Each work we will look at shows that Irwin is concerned with the conscious act of looking, and questioning the nature of art itself.<br /> <br /> Starting out with the handheld paintings, which were done in the late 50's, Irwin is working alongside the abstract expressionists. This includes famous modern artists like Jackson Pollock, Franz Kline, and Willem De Kooning. Abstract expressionism is characterized by action packed, gestural marks that focus on color and form rather than representation of a tangible subject. The movement was concerned with emotion, catharsis, and the actual process behind the work, almost like a performance. The finished piece was a remnant of bodily expression. (See - "Lavender Mist"by Jackson Pollock, 1950.) Irwin, already a free thinker from the beginning of his career, decides to create abstract expressionist works that are considerably smaller than other artists working at the time, noting their "unfashionably small scale." Most artists were working large scale in an effort to use most of their body in the process. He creates a more intimate, personal aspect to the pieces, calling them "handheld" paintings. Obviously, since we are in a museum setting, they are displayed under glass for us to look at. However, in their original context, they are meant to be physically handled, turned, and looked at closely with a connection to our bodies. Each work is composed of dense, swirling oil paint in different shapes and formations. If we look at "Untitled", which seems to be mostly black, we can see many subtle different layers of color if we spend some time with it. Hues of orange and blue come to the muddy surface upon close looking. The wooden frames were built by Irwin himself, with the painting emerging above them, almost like a topographic map. The frame becomes a compositional element within itself, setting the painting in something definite. The works are heavily textural and almost three dimensional. Irwin is building up paint in certain areas, and scratching into it in others. He claimed that many of these pieces were completed in just one session, which was typical of abstract expressionist practices. In their original context, these works establish a relationship with the painting and the viewer. Viewing them at different angles, we can continue to pick out many different nuances in each work. Irwin was influenced by Zen Buddhist principles as well as many other American avant - garde artists, which influenced his acutely deliberate decisions and awareness in his work. <br /> <br /> Moving on to the late line paintings, and passing through the early line paintings, we can see Irwin has abandoned his abstract expressionist style of working. He is interested in the simplification of a painting, reducing it to figure ground relationships established by the horizontal line. This reduction completely strips the painting of any representational subject, and introduces color and line. The paint is much thinner, with no textural definition. He lessens his emphasis on brushstroke which was implemented in the earlier line paintings. Now, we have no external associations to liken the painting to. While many of the earlier line paintings have titles, ("Crazy Otto") he decides to completely rid his work of any associations. Each painting depicts parallel lines, with usually only two colors. While the early line paintings had evidence of brushstroke in the background, the late line paintings are more refined. They have also increased in size, dominating our field of vision, and lack a frame. When actively looking at these, your eyes are continuously shifting focus, because holding both lines in your vision is impossible. Irwin was known to experiment with different colored strips of tape in varied lengths, to visualize different combinations. The last piece displayed in the gallery of "late line paintings" appears to be completely orange at first glance, but is subtly marked with two lines of another shade of orange. Large enough to consume our peripheral vision, it's an interesting optical experience as our eyes shift around the work. It's important to note that Irwin has dropped the use of the frame, and is exposing raw canvas on the sides for the first time. <br /> <br /> In the next gallery, we jump to an incredible advancement in his artistic career: the dot painting. Upon entering the gallery, it appears to be a blank, aged canvas hanging on the wall. Walking a little bit closer, there appears to be a circular haze of light or energy emanating from the piece: in yellow, pink, and maybe purple. If we walk up to the line, and look closely, we will see hundreds of tiny dots in blue and faint red covering the canvas. The dots are more concentrated towards the center, and fade out towards the edges, with only the red continuing into the corners. The edges are left blank, which makes it appear to recede backwards. Irwin is using complementary colors that nearly cancel each other out the farther we step back from the piece. One thing to notice is that the canvas is shaped in a convex form, with the center bulging outwards towards the viewer. This emphasizes the vague, circular form of the piece when we view it from the middle of the gallery. Coinciding with the lack of dots on the edges, the shaped canvas brings the center into our field of vision while the edges hold back. The canvas is mounted onto a piece that elevates it off of the wall. The viewer's experience is directly influenced by the movement of their body within the space, and the amount of time they spend with the piece. Advancing into his career, Irwin decides to leave many of his pieces untitled, so they aren't associated with anything specific. By doing this, he leaves the interpretation of the piece up to the viewer's direct connection with it. This is also the first time that he shapes the canvas, giving a more sculptural element to the piece, which precedents the series of discs he creates afterwards. <br /> <br /> The dot painting is a great precedent for the discs, as it introduces the convex circular form, and the obvious optical illusion that changes according to where you're standing in the gallery. For this tour, I'm focusing specifically on the "Untitled" piece from 1969. Irwin is using hand hammered acrylic to create a sculptural work, finally abandoning traditional painting in a bold step forward. We can also observe that Irwin isn't concerned with making a work that resembles a representational subject. We are confronted by a simple, pure, circular form that seems to blend in and out of it's surroundings. Irwin is carefully applying the paint in a gradient like form around the circular shape, with the disc laying horizontally on a lazy susan. The lazy susan ensured that Irwin was applying even layers of paint in concentric circles of varying colors. He used a paint gun that sprayed the acrylic paint on in a subtle, matte texture. The band in the center appears to be darker towards the middle of the piece, with the edges blurring into the background. The piece is backlit by a strong white fluorescent background, as well as another powerful light above it. When looking at "Untitled" straight on, we are unaware that it's sculptural at first. It seems to float in an indiscernible space, receding backwards yet also hovering towards us. When viewing the piece from the side, Irwin's entire illusion explains itself: the piece is mounted on an acrylic tube, attached to the wall behind it, propelling the disc forward. The entire room acts as a backdrop for the piece in this sense: the walls are bright, blank and sterile, the focal point of the entire gallery being the piece itself. Many of the wall texts are difficult to find throughout these rooms, because they were purposely set aside from the piece, in small text on a wall opposite from it. This decision was made to avoid detracting from the work itself. <br /> <br /> Irwin's use of the distortion of space was implemented in his next artistic decision: abandoning his studio and working with installation and site specific pieces. For our last piece, we enter what seems to be an entirely blank room. With careful looking and movement throughout the space, we are able to make out what seems to be a straight wall, with a strange sense of depth to it. From looking one way, it's perceived as flat, but approaching it straight on, it seems as if we can jump right into the space. This is a piece created specifically for the Hirshhorn Museum, titled "Square the Circle." The Hirshhorn is a circular institution, and he is simply drawing a line through it, altering our perception of the space.The piece is composed of 120 feet of white transparent fabric called "scrim". This is a lightweight, fragile material that is generally used in theatre production. It is attached to a thin wooden framework with staples, weaving in between the ceiling. Looking into the corners of the room, we can see a dizzying void of white space. We are unsure of it's dimensions, where it starts and where it ends. Irwin plays on the viewer's expectations of art, creating a highly sophisticated work that seems to be hidden within the walls of the galleries, waiting to be found with patience and time. <br />

Exhibition design can illustrate a rich story between artists and their work. I'm using research to interpret and highlight the placement of works and how the artist's own history relates to another. Some of the artists included have been inspired by others, some have lived and worked together, some have had romantic relationships, and others break free of each other in order to find their own individualistic style. The end result is an incredible dialogue of history through the exhibition's design. British figurative painter Lucian Freud ("Portrait of Leigh Bowery") owned a casting of Auguste Rodin's "Iris, Messenger of the Gods" which is positioned next to it. These are both confrontational and sensual in their pose, and nature. The sculptural properties of Freud's painting technique mirror the curves of Rodin's piece. They both have dimensionality, weight, and texture. He had an affinity for unfinished works, lacking certain body parts, where the fragment expressed the entire form. Rodin's work retains the turbulent marks of the sculptural process. The messenger's pose shows vulnerability, power, invitation. It has been compared frequently to "Origin of the World" by Gustav Courbet, 1886, a realistic, nearly voyeuristic view of a woman's vagina. The figure was originally created as a part of a monument to Victor Hugo, designed to float above the writer’s head as a muse. It was repurposed after he removed the wings, head, and arm. Rodin was often commissioned to create monuments for notable people, as we can see the groundbreaking "Balzac" located in the sculpture garden. It is said that Rodin was also influenced by the popular can can dancers of the late 1800's. (See Henri De Toulouse Lautrec painting, "Jane Avril Dancing"). Both Brancusi and Rodin had groundbreaking thought processes and practices, and are considered fathers of modern sculpture. Freud owned a later casting of "Iris", and was reported to have it at his bedside at some point, being one of the first things he would wake up to. Leigh Bowery, the subject of Freud's painting, was a London based performance artist, designer, and socialite. Many photographs of Bowery show him wearing elaborate full face makeup, adorned with props and avant garde costumes. In this portrait, he is unmade, off guard, and natural. The grooves and folds of his skin are alive and breathing in muted, diverse colors. Bowery would die tragically two years later of AIDS related illness, ending the powerful collaboration between the two. The works with Bowery were considered masterpieces for the time, as Freud perfected the life in his brushstrokes at this late point in his career. He created relationships with his subjects and felt that their connection and chemistry was vital in his creative process. He painted under direct observation, his sessions with subjects spanning over long hours. (See the book - "Man With the Blue Scarf - Sitting for a Portrait by Lucian Freud"). Freud reportedly raised the heat in the studio he was working in to give his models a certain sleepy languor. The setting was exactly as portrayed: a dingy, small studio apartment, riddled with dirty rags. During his working process, he is known to be incredibly entertaining and charismatic, and as his focus intensifies, he becomes increasingly vocal in a stream conscience. His children have remarked that they learned the most from him in their lifetime sitting as his subject for a painting. Freud was mostly absent from his family, throwing his relationships away for his love of painting. Romanian sculptor Constantin Brancusi ("The Sleeping Muse") worked as an assistant in Auguste Rodin's studio, eventually parting ways, claiming he couldn't advance under such a successful sculptor. The works are positioned directly across the room from each other. Brancusi shows that he is trying to achieve a much smoother, more simplified look, reducing natural forms to shapes that suggest the object. The soft impressions for the features are incredibly different from Rodin's curvy, defined sculpting on "Iris", focusing on accuracy. One has the evidence of human touch, while the other lacks it completely. Brancusi wanted to focus on the essence of a subject rather than depicting it the way it exists. His monthlong stint in Rodin's studio upon his arrival to Paris proved as a turning point in his artistic career. Brancusi realized he preferred to cut directly into the material, rather than cast versions of it like Rodin. This is a practice used in African sculpture processes, an influence that shows in his work, and many other European artists at the time. (See the painting "Les Demoiselles d'Avignon" by Pablo Picasso). He was inspired by the wooden masks created in what was deemed "primitive" cultures. After this break, he went on to produce famous modern sculptures such as "The Kiss" and "The Sleeping Muse", and he emerged in the American art scene afterwards. Another version of this piece was included in the groundbreaking 1913 Armory Show in New York, which showcased new horizons in American and European art. "The Sleeping Muse" is polished perfectly, the marble sparkling, while "Iris" has a heavy, dark coarseness. Comparing the two, we can see allusions to myth and mysticism. "Iris" portrays a Greek messenger of the gods, and "The Sleeping Muse" references gods and goddesses who provide as a catalyst for inspiration in learning and creation. "Iris" is overtly sexual in her nature, while "The Sleeping Muse" has an ovoid shape that references fertility and conception. Brancusi believed this sacred shape was key in his artistic trajectory, a symbol that represented the origin of life, mirroring the artist's creation. Jean Paul Riopelle ("Large Triptych") and Joan Mitchell ("Field for Skies") shared a long, stormy relationship as abstract expressionist painters in the 70's and 80's. Their pieces are both triptychs, each one standing massive and alone on the outer walls of separate galleries. Mitchell was a painter with strong standing in the art world of New York City, generally grouped into the label of "second generation abstract expressionist". Riding the last wave of "Ab-Ex" with the late works of Pollock, De Kooning, and Krasner, she became known for her rhythmic, gestural marks, large bursts of color, and emotionally receptive scale. Her works are a poetic transcription of the natural world around her, often working from the memory of landscape scenes as subject matter. In "Field for Skies" we can see large green blocks saturated with depth, representing spacious fields. The wild, explosive orange and yellow hues depict a sunny, warm day. As viewers, we are receiving the emotion of a place in time. Mitchell works from memory in her studio, in this case, on three very large panels, extending her body across the canvas, a very physical experience. Her living environments in Michigan as a child, New York, and Paris influenced her, recreating them in a surprisingly careful and controlled way. Mitchell was influenced by poetry, and perhaps used the triptych form as a way of punctuation in her painting. Through her paintings, we can see her incredible sense of memory and her capacity for synesthetic experiences. (See the book "Joan Mitchell" - Lady Painter). Today, Mitchell is heralded as a feminist icon, a woman who thrived in a place where she didn't belong. The New York art scene was generally dominated by men, and Mitchell fought for a place in their circle. She was known to be very attached to her dogs, often naming her paintings after them in adoration. She listened to swing and jazz music during painting, claiming that it helped propel her rhythm and pace across the canvas. Riopelle was a Canadian painter working in a similar fashion to Mitchell, creating large scale "Ab-Ex" works that depicted various landscapes. His technique was much different: oil paint was squeezed directly from the tube, and applied in it's heavy entirety with a palette knife. The paint is thick and abundant on the canvas, while Mitchell's appears to be watered down, blended in. Riopelle's palette knife shaped gestures create an intricate mosaic like aspect to his work. In the monumental "Large Triptych", rectangular shapes of different strong colors make up an all over composition, covering every area of ground. Implementing heavy paint, or "impasto" is a technique born from the Baroque painters and Impressionists, most famously Vincent Van Gogh and Rembrandt. Instead of the impasto highlighting a representational subject, Riopelle creates an entirely abstract work, focusing primarily on forms and the way they weave into each other. The colors he uses are characteristically darker and more dramatic than Mitchell's, incorporating more earth tones as well. Mixing together naturally with the motion of the palette knife, the colors range from untouched to muddy. The center panel seems to be scratched into in an erratic manner, the absence and presence of paint noticeable through the grooves and trenches. Both "Field for Skies" and "Large Triptych" are an experience of emotion, power, and presence. Riopelle and Mitchell met in Paris, where she escaped from New York City to focus on her work. The two lived together in the French countryside for about 25 years, a fiery relationship fueled by heavy drinking, a love of painting, and a similar vision for their own work. The galleries' placement of their work describes their unity, and their split. Jean Dubuffet ("Spirit of Tarnish") uses an ordinary household material like aluminum foil in his sculpture, preceding Eduardo Basualdo's piece ("The End of the Ending") also created with a similar type of foil, 50 years later, much larger and more dramatic. Dubuffet's piece is contained in a glass box on a pedestal, placed right before you enter the dark room that contains Basualdo's looming, rock like sculpture. "Spirit of Tarnish" seems to be a portrait, with a bust like shape and vague indentations suggesting features, the most familiar being the two nails as beaming, angry eyes. It's form is organic, with rough edges and grooves, the folds of the foil endless and mesmerizing. Dubuffet, a French sculptor was born to a wealthy family and had sporadic stints in creating art during the sixties. His work is an incredible contribution to the movement "low art" or "outsider art". (See also the terms - "art brut", "arte povera"). Artists in this movement believed that the creation of art should be stripped of it's inherent connection to social status, wealth, education, institutional standards. Dubuffet was famously fascinated by art created by children, prisoners in reform, and the mentally ill. He claimed that he was more interested in something made from the hands of a "simple man", rather than an "artist". He amassed his own personal collection of works deemed "outsider art". Dubuffet's life is an interesting paradox. He was criticized for his writings, which were elegant, complex and lengthy. Now, his work is famously displayed in a government institution: something he had originally opposed against. Dubuffet was also concerned in breaking down standards of traditional beauty in art. His color palette includes earthy colors like tan, brown, black and grey, which critics often related to human waste. In terms of materials, he worked with anything unorthodox: sand, (See "Limbour as a Crustacean") paper mache, cement, tar, and aluminum foil. "Spirit of Tarnish", which loosely depicts a human face, is a great example of his experiments in parody portraiture. Many viewers remark that Dubuffet's work looks amateur, or childish. The bodies in his paintings are composed of scribbles and lines, resembling crude stick figures. "Spirit of Tarnish" can be likened to the simple, childlike act of balling up tinfoil. Eduardo Basualdo, a young Argentinian sculptor, created "End of the Ending" specifically for one of the Hirshhorn's smaller galleries, assembling it in the space. The room is dark, cramped, and Basualdo's work is huge and intimidating. The sculpture hugs the top of the ceiling and the right wall, leaving a designated path to walk through and experience the piece. Obstruction of space is an important element of it's impact on the viewer. You suddenly become aware of your body's place within the room, and you are forced to maneuver around it. Although "End of the Ending" appears to be a dense rock formation, it is mostly hollow inside. Large strips of black aluminum foil, frequently used in theatre production, are wrapped around a wire and wooden framework. The artist shapes the foil to give it the illusion of a natural rock texture. The arrangement of lights in this room is incredibly important for enhancing the drama and overall feel of the piece, highlighting certain areas and mysteriously concealing others. Something interesting to note is the date that the piece was created. Basualdo's symbolism directly coincides with the anticipated cataclysmic events predicted by the Mayan calendar on December 21st, 2012. According to the artist, he originally visualized "End of the Ending" as a symbol for the apocalypse. Looking through his other works (sketches and drawings), we can see that he has an interest in black, void like forms that aggressively consume space. There is little information available on Basualdo, since he an emerging artist. Although we have no definitive evidence that he was influenced by Dubuffet's tinfoil piece, it's certainly an interesting placement and comparison within the galleries, a material used ingeniously throughout time. Francis Bacon's resurrection of a lost Van Gogh ("Study for a Portrait of/Painter on the Road to Tarascon") is directly next to a small sculpture by Paul Gauguin ("Hina with Two Attendants") who Van Gogh lived with in Arles, France. Their placement describes the tumultuous residency the two shared for approximately a year, where Van Gogh descended into a struggle with mental illness. Additionally, both the paintings and the sculpture are recreations of destroyed original art. This juxtaposition perhaps has the biggest impact out of any in the exhibit. Bacon's two pieces depict Van Gogh in the rural fields of Arles, where he would carry his materials outside and paint the landscape surrounding him. His paintings made here would become some of the most famous works of all time, representing the artists' incredible synesthetic experiences tied to the natural world. Van Gogh made a number of self portraits, implementing thick impasto and motion, consistent with his other works. His piece "Painter on the Road to Tarascon" was destroyed in a fire in World War Two, with only color photographic reproductions existing. Francis Bacon is an Irish born British painter who shaped new horizons in modern figurative painting. His work is often gruesome and disturbing, painting disembodied biomorphic figures trapped in isolation and horror, devoid of time and space. The only allusion that Bacon gives to the character of Van Gogh in this work is the addition of the straw hat. (See - "Self Portrait With Straw Hat" by Van Gogh.) Otherwise, the figure is unrecognizable and mysterious. There are no distinct facial features other than a grimacing mouth and two dark sockets for eyes. In the painting on the right, the paint is stretched vertically across his face, quite similar to the distortion tactic used in "Study after Velasquez' Portrait of Pope Innocent X". Here, Bacon is giving life to the destroyed self portrait by recreating it in his own fashion. Although quintessentially Bacon regarding technique, his colors are more chaotic and bold, perhaps an homage to the saturated use of color that Van Gogh explored during his time at Arles. Bacon successfully represents Van Gogh as a ghost like memory through the way he chooses to paint him. Shrouded in mystery and loneliness, it describes the obvious loss of a priceless work of art, and the darkness of Van Gogh's own life. A series of eight paintings were created by Bacon based off of "Painter on the Road to Tarascon." An important part of this work is Bacon's use on photographic imagery. For example, his sexually charged painting 'Two Figures" has been directly interpreted from Edward Muybridge's motion studies, analyzing the positions of two men wrestling. In "Pope Innocent X", he has loosely transcribed a still of a screaming, bloody woman from Sergei Einstein's film "Battleship Potemkin." Following through with this practice, he creates his interpretations of Van Gogh's self portrait from a photographic reproduction. Bacon's studio was famously chaotic and riddled with odd sources of inspiration. After his death, his entire studio was relocated to the Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin. Each item is exactly as it was left, and an entire database has been recorded of it's contents. Positioned to the right is a small, cylindrical, wooden sculpture by the modern French master Paul Gauguin. This piece is prized and rare: only the original and one bronze casting exist. Gauguin worked alongside the Impressionists in his early artistic career, most famously with Vincent Van Gogh for approximately nine months at Arles. Together, they experimented with bold, colorful works that represented nature. After Van Gogh suffered from a mental breakdown, Gaugin decided to escape from European society, being drawn to places that he deemed as "exotic". He moved to Tahiti in 1891, living with the natives that were further removed from the colonized capital. His personal exile and embrace of non - western culture has served as a romantic example of the wandering artist. Tahitian religious art had been destroyed by the British Christian missionaries decades earlier. Missionaries came to "civilize" the Tahitians, denouncing their lack of clothing, use of dance in rituals, and polygamous relationships. Many of Gauguin's paintings show Tahitian subjects posed in modest European dress, representing the spread of Christian values throughout the native (See - "Woman With A Flower", 1891). Gauguin created a new image of a Polynesian moon goddess "Hina", standing peaceful, strong, and meditative. Having no visual representation of this goddess' physical form to work from due to the original being destroyed, he based the facial features off of the Tahitian women surrounding him. For the body's proportions and pose, he worked from a photograph of Buddhist art in a Temple in Java. Gauguin was fascinated with the concept of primitivism, along with many other European artists at the time. (See - Brancusi's "Sleeping Muse"). His works during this time are characterized by bold colors, distinct lines, and exaggerated features and proportions, distinctly removing his style from the Impressionists. Gauguin's work is often categorized under "Symbolism", a movement that stressed the spirituality behind physical forms. A great example of this is Gauguin's "Yellow Christ" done in 1889. This was a foreshadowing of the Fauvist and Expressionist movements in the early 1900's. The placement of both "Hina With Two Attendants" and "A Study for a Portrait of Van Gogh" illustrates the artists' desire to recreate the priceless work that has been lost throughout history. Delving further, it reminds us of the notoriously chaotic time that Gauguin and Van Gogh shared together in the "Little Yellow House" at Arles.

<p>Different interpretations of the body have been utilized by artists since the beginning of civilization, as a way to explore a sense of identity and the nature of representation. The human form has been depicted in many different ways since the time of traditional portraiture.</p><p>Arriving at the third floor of the museum, we are immediately confronted by Ron Mueck's huge, sculpture "Big Man", done in 2000. He is positioned in the corner, brooding and scowling at the viewers, who look back at him in amazement. His skin is so lifelike it seems to breathe, covered in imperfections like wrinkles, blue veins, cellulite, and age spots. He is larger than life, making the precise detail of his face and body amplified. This invites close inspection, forcing us to consider our own human flaws.</p><p>"Big Man" has an incredible story behind him. Mueck is Australian born artist working in London, creating hyperrealistic sculptures, usually with manipulated scale. His pieces are either much smaller or much larger than a typical human being. He uses this to add emotional emphasis: many of his pieces explore themes of loneliness, isolation, vulnerability, and transition. Mueck began working in special effects for TV and movies, most notably on the film "Labrynth", and on "Sesame Street". His work took a sharp turn when he exhibited his piece "Dead Dad" at "Sensation: Young British Artists from the Saatchi Collection" at the Royal Academy of Arts in London. A depiction of his own father after death, his size slightly reduced, it had a strong impact on viewers due to the figure's striking realism and dark subject matter. </p><p>"Big Man" actually originated from a mistake. Mueck was working with a model who struggled to execute the pose he wanted, due to his larger size. In a moment of frustration, the model sat in the corner, with his hands holding his head in annoyance. Mueck was struck by the intense paradox of this scene, a grown man appearing as a child being punished. He realized that this pose was exactly what he needed for his piece. Mueck usually doesn't work from life models, but this was an exception. The piece physically represents his sitter at the time: bald, hairless, and naked, with a strange yellow cast over him. "Big Man" was actually created in only four weeks, according to Mueck. In determining the scale, he photographed the original model and drew a small figure looking up at it. Realizing the potential power of the piece at this size, he decided to make him much larger. "Big Man" is made up of a number of different materials. First, Mueck creates sketches and clay models in order to determine the form. The form is molded from the original clay model in either fiberglass or silicone. Afterwards, he paints in detail and sculpts the eyes for his last step. The piece's placement within the gallery is pivotal, as he rests up against the corner and gazes out in annoyance. Mueck doesn't usually work from people as models - he generally uses photographs, anatomy texts, and his own imagination. </p><p>The next piece is by Willem De Kooning, titled "Two Women in the Country", done in 1954. When we approach the painting, we are initially aware of the figures due to their recognizable yet obviously distorted bodies. We can see exaggerated breasts, torsos, disproportionate legs, and faces that have muddy features, hidden in paint. Their bodies are a range of different warm colors: pinks, orange, and yellow, splashed against a green background. De Kooning was an artist from the Netherlands, coming to New York City and working in commercial art doing illustration. Eventually he abandoned this practice, painting as an abstract expressionist, stuck in between this label and experimenting with figuration. Featured on the backside of "Woman I" (1948) by De Kooning is an entirely black and white abstract piece, materializing his inner questions about style. Many people criticized his portrait series of women as misogynistic and harsh, portraying them with huge bulging eyes, teeth bared, and oversized breasts. The work has often been interpreted as De Kooning's catharsis and anger towards women. Many collectors have noted the holes and lacerations made in his works due to a very violent way of working. De Kooning has explained his works as interpretations of female icons. He has also stated that the "Women' series is a response to the traditional image of women in western art. Whether in ancient art or pop culture, he was interested with the images of women depicted throughout time. </p><p>Walking through, we approach a piece titled "Entrails Carpet" done in 1995 by Mona Hatoum. The piece is situated in the center of a gallery on the floor. Hatoum is from Lebanon, working in London making sophisticated sculptural pieces that deal directly with the body. This piece is made out of silicone rubber, an off white color, and has some opalescent properties as it interacts with light. Upon looking at it, we can see that what appears to be intestines weaving in and out like a traditional woven rug. It feels unsettling and paradoxical: sterile yet violent. Associating a rug or carpet with the comfort of home, Hatoum brings another element to it. We are immediately confronted with the inner working of our bodies, bringing us to awareness. Hatoum has created this piece in response to her previous years living in Palestine. She has detached familiarity and comfort from a domestic object because for her, it was never a place of reliability or safety, always in flux. </p><p>The last piece we'll look at is "Untitled (Anthropometry)" by Yves Klein, done in 1960. This piece is actually a remnant of a performance done by Klein in Paris. Insistent on the creation of a painting without the use of a brush or his own direct touch, he applied bright ultramarine pigment onto the bodies of young women and directed them onto the paper. The woman becomes like a stamp, however each one has it's own interesting pattern coinciding with their pressure upon contact. Different textures and thicknesses are created throughout the five forms. The paint began at their shoulders, and stopped a little bit before the knee, emphasizing the center of the form. Klein ended up putting a patent on this shade of blue in 1979, because he used it so frequently as a way to tie his work together. The color alludes to spirituality and infinity, relating to the sky. At this particular performance, Klein and his guests dressed formally, and listened to his piece "Monotone Symphony", where a single chord was played for twenty minutes, and nothing else but absolute silence for the other half of that duration.</p>