Amy 2006

Denise Green made this print, Amy, from some time ago, with what looks like a drypoint needle on a yellow ground. I can imagine her leaning over the plate, trying to describe a rose in a single breath, a continuous line. It must have been so tough not to lift that needle. The odd doubling of the flower's contour, a stutter of the hand, gives the whole thing a weird vibration, like it’s about to take off, to become something other than a flower. And the yellow! It feels both sunny and acidic, cheerful and synthetic at once. It’s a reminder that mark-making is a conversation, a kind of intimate call and response between artists across time. Each line, each color choice, echoes and answers the gestures of those who came before, pushing the dialogue forward into uncharted territories of feeling and thought. It's about not knowing for sure, and embracing the possibilities that uncertainty brings.