Summer 1962

Frank Lobdell made this painting, Summer, with oil on canvas. There's an intensity of yellows that really grabs you, punctuated by swirls of deep blues and greens. I bet Lobdell was really feeling it when he put brush to canvas, wasn't he? He was mixing up intention with chance. I'm thinking about the thickness of the paint, how it almost has a life of its own. The way the spirals dominate the composition, pulling you in and around. I imagine him wrestling with the canvas. Were the forms easily found or coaxed through layers of trial and error? What's really amazing is how Lobdell manages to balance control with spontaneity. You can see it in the way the lines feel both deliberate and free. This work reminds me of a certain kind of California painting, a close cousin to Diebenkorn and Bischoff who were also finding new approaches to abstraction. But it is such a personal thing, painting. We keep each other company, all us painters, across time and place. We pass on the torch of mark-making, each one just trying to figure out what it all means.