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Stephen Westfall at Lennon, Weinberg - New York - Brief Article

Art in America,  Nov, 2001  by Anna Hammond

Since the early 1990s, Stephen Westfall's paintings have been defined by his loyalty to color and the grid. As for every serious painter, these loyalties require an intense and dedicated practice of investigation and repetition. Westfall's works have a sense of humor, while remaining entirely serious and earnest through the precision with which they are painted and his consistently arresting choice of colors, These paintings are not Op and are not simply geometric abstractions, but they reference both and draw on the viewer's familiarity with such visual vocabularies. Like Agnes Martin's pencildrawn grids, Westfall's paintings talk back to the mathematical precision of Minimalism.

Westfall's use of color provides the initial invitation to rest in front of each work. He chooses odd but vibrant hues that, juxtaposed, glow without quite popping; they go together while remaining distinct, referencing some memory that can't quite be identified. In River Road, for example, the background of the square-format canvas is a pale, seemingly flat hue--a cobalt blue to which white has been added. Superimposed upon this is one of Westfall's characteristic slipping rectangular grids in pale yellow; while the intervals of the grid are uniform, each of the bars is very slightly askew. On top of these elements is a slightly wonky square grid in navy blue. What's alluring is the harmony in the disharmony: the way the shifted lines work within the rigid lines of the frame and how the surface appears to be completely flat, but on closer inspection has subtle variations created by the careful handpainted application.

Similarly, Pranaparamita is a rectangular painting with a dark ocher background and a thick square grid in a cerulean blue; a thin, off-kilter grid in reddish burnt orange appears behind it. In this work there is a quiet tension between the broad bars of the standard grid and the underlying field of color. They seem to cover equal amounts of the canvas in a regular arrangement broken only by the thin orange lines. Perhaps the title of the painting lends some insight: it means "perfect wisdom," and is also the name of the Buddhist goddess of knowledge. But the key concept is "prana," the Sanskrit word for life force. This work conveys a perfect balance of weight through its colors, and a visual imbalance in its structure that is as subtle but important as the movement created by breathing.

A number of other paintings in this exhibition, such as Germantown and Grand Opening, seem to be departures and experiments--more like landscapes than enclosed spaces. All nine of these new works testify to this artist's commitment to the fact that the practice of painting continues to satisfy, surprise and endure.

COPYRIGHT 2001 Brant Publications, Inc.
COPYRIGHT 2001 Gale Group