1.14.01 2001

Editor: This is Sean Scully's "1.14.01," created in 2001 using watercolor. It's comprised of stacked rectangles, alternating between shades of brown and bare paper. It feels very architectural, like looking at the foundation of a building. What do you see in this piece? Curator: Immediately, I am drawn to the repetition of the rectangles. In iconography, the grid represents order, structure. But here, it's softened, permeable. Notice the delicate bleed of the watercolor. Do you see how that blurring challenges the idea of rigid geometry that we see so often in Modernism and hard-edge painting? Editor: Yes, now that you mention it, I do. The colors, though muted, feel quite warm and tactile, despite the geometric composition. Is there a contrast that you see? Curator: Absolutely! Consider brown as a color, often associated with earth, with stability. Scully sets up a dialogue between the rational—the hard edges and geometric forms—and the sensual—the earthy tones, the subtle textures. The cultural memory embedded in these forms and colors gives us much to consider, perhaps the foundations of our own being, as you observed. Editor: So it's about more than just simple shapes? Curator: Much more. Scully, throughout his career, uses the grid to engage the viewer, prompting a quiet meditation on presence and place. And that place could be as small as a home or as vast as cultural memory itself. Editor: I never would have considered all that just from looking at the rectangles! I appreciate how it hints at meaning beneath the surface. Curator: Indeed. It reminds us to look closely at those familiar things. A great building, or even an abstract painting, holds so much intention and thought within.