Blue Club 1981

This is a print by Richard Diebenkorn, and it's just swimming in inky blacks, blues, and pale creamy whites. You can imagine him pulling this print, proofing it, making adjustments. I feel for Diebenkorn here, wrestling with this simple composition. That big spade shape – it’s not perfect, it’s a little wobbly, a little off-kilter. Then, a blue club is stenciled smack in the middle. The surface looks scrubbed and worn, like it's been rubbed back, scraped, maybe even sanded a bit? All those ghostly lines underneath suggest the residue of previous marks. It's not trying to be realistic; it's trying to figure out what a spade or club even IS. Diebenkorn had a love for everyday objects, finding geometry in them. It's like he’s asking himself and us: what does it mean to see something, to represent it, and to remake it in paint? All painters are in constant conversation, riffing off of each other's ideas. We are all remaking things from the past. Painting is always uncertain. It allows for endless interpretation and meaning!