Express 1963

Editor: Robert Rauschenberg's *Express*, created in 1963, is a captivating mixed-media collage, currently housed in the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum. At first glance, its monochrome palette and layered imagery evoke a feeling of fragmented memories. What story do you think Rauschenberg is trying to tell with this visually arresting assemblage? Curator: Well, if this piece was a poem, it'd be one of those beat-generation stream-of-consciousness ones. It feels less about *telling* a story and more about *experiencing* a sensation, you know? He throws together seemingly random images – horses, dancers, abstract swathes – it’s like channel surfing through collective memory. It embodies, for me, that heady, chaotic energy of the early 60s, a culture bombarded by new information and grappling with its meaning. It isn't a monochrome work but an absence of pure colour. How does that resonate with you? Editor: I see what you mean about the “experiencing a sensation” rather than telling a linear narrative. It’s definitely chaotic, like trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces. The monochromatic and somewhat desaturated pallette does feel particularly intentional as an undercurrent to this sensation of information saturation you highlight, as if colour might be an element that tips it completely over the edge. Is it an anxiety dream then, rendered in collage? Curator: Maybe a waking dream! Anxious, yes, but also full of possibility, as Rauschenberg lets different narratives bleed into one another and new and strange meanings and associations are born as he goes. It’s almost... optimistic, in its own unsettling way. Does that ring true to you? Editor: Definitely. The chaos is unsettling, but also invigorating, like standing on the edge of something new. Thanks; that perspective shifted my understanding completely. Curator: Absolutely! And thank *you* for such insightful questions. It’s amazing how a piece can keep changing the more we bring ourselves to see.