Cycle 2014

Editor: Right now we’re looking at Rochelle Blumenfeld's 2014 piece, "Cycle," created with acrylic paint. There’s an almost dizzying quality to it. It feels like a vortex or maybe a chrysalis about to burst. What do you see in this piece, and how do you even begin to interpret such an explosion of form? Curator: You know, that feeling of something about to burst, I get that too. For me, "Cycle" resonates with the raw energy of creation itself. Look at how Blumenfeld uses layered geometric shapes. It's reminiscent of early modernist explorations of form, yet grounded in the gestural freedom of Abstract Expressionism. Imagine the artist, caught up in this dance of brushstrokes, building layer upon layer, not just applying pigment, but excavating meaning. What do those fragmented forms suggest to you? Editor: I guess I see a world constantly being rebuilt, broken down, and then reformed, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, but fractured and multiple. Curator: Exactly! And the color palette—those earthy tones and muted blues—it evokes a sense of both warmth and melancholy. Like the cycle of life itself: birth, death, and rebirth all intertwined. Do you find yourself drawn to a particular area of the canvas? Editor: Definitely to the very center, it's chaotic, yet magnetic! Curator: The heart of it all, isn’t it? It draws us in, but also pushes us away with its inherent tension. It's a beautiful paradox! Editor: This makes me appreciate how even an abstract piece can tell such a rich, complex story, and to rethink the phoenix. Curator: Agreed, and the beauty is that the story isn't fixed. It changes with each viewer, each viewing. Which, in essence, becomes a "Cycle" itself.