Pentagon 1974

Curator: At first glance, Ruth Vollmer’s "Pentagon," from 1974, gives the impression of both meticulous precision and surprising softness. It is a pencil drawing that depicts an abstracted geometric form circumscribed in a circle with various inscribed angles. Editor: Softness is a key word. It avoids the hard-edged, aggressive geometry you often associate with works of that period, say Minimalist sculpture, and almost suggests an aura or emanation. There's a subtle spiritual quality to it. Curator: Well, I see that. The use of geometric shapes and line-work invites, perhaps demands, decoding. Geometric shapes—the circle, the pentagon—they have resonated with humankind for millennia. They suggest a deep order, perfection, even if they remain just beyond our grasp. The inscribed angles remind me of the Renaissance artists attempting to capture ideal perspective and space. Editor: True. But why the pentagon, specifically? This symbol does bear significant political weight. Here we are a decade or so after the Vietnam war is kicking off and, to me at least, it's very difficult to separate the name itself from connotations of government bureaucracy and secrecy. This work, though beautiful and quite clearly intentional, could easily be read as a reflection on the complicated relationships to global superpowers and control. Curator: I like that interpretation. There is always the play of shadow. A darker meaning exists for all symbols, like two sides of a coin. As such, geometry might offer up its symbolic roots to othering or hierarchical systems. Vollmer invites such thoughts precisely through the subtle yet decisive linework and circumscription that brings everything together as one. Editor: Ultimately, regardless of how one decodes this fascinating image, its lasting appeal is undoubtedly its subtle visual depth. We are presented with something immediately simple, but then given the space to contemplate meaning. Curator: A convergence point, indeed. An artifact, from line, and circle.