dé-finition/méthode #511: peinture-tombeau 2001

This is a painting by Claude Rutault, and it feels like a quiet proposition that unfolds in layers. Imagine the artist stacking canvases one on top of the other, each painted a muted, earthy tone, like a minimalist ziggurat or an encrypted monolith. I like to think of the making process, Rutault's actions almost ritualistic: painting, stacking, repeating. He creates a tomb, as the title suggests. It makes me think about the physical act of layering—how each canvas holds a memory of its making, a trace of the artist’s hand. The layers accumulate over time. It feels like an act of burying and preserving something, and the paint itself, applied perhaps in thin washes, becomes almost like a veil. It’s as if Rutault is in conversation with artists like Agnes Martin or Robert Ryman, pushing the boundaries of what painting can be, always questioning the form and the medium. Painting becomes an ongoing exploration.