28. 5. 66 1966

Curator: Here, we have John Hoyland's "28. 5. 66," painted in 1966. Look at the scale of this canvas! Editor: My first thought? It’s surprisingly quiet for such a large, red painting. Almost meditative. Curator: The composition is deceptively simple—a field of red punctuated by vertical bands of gray and green. Notice how the hard edges create a sense of flatness, while the subtle variations in tone introduce depth. Editor: It’s a really interesting tension. That grounding purple bar at the bottom left feels like an invitation to, well, to what? Step into the painting? Disrupt the starkness? Curator: Perhaps. Hoyland was deeply invested in exploring color relationships and the emotional impact of pure abstraction. He often spoke of wanting his paintings to be felt, not just seen. Editor: I do feel something. A calmness, a subtle hum. It’s not shouting at me, but it’s definitely whispering. Curator: It’s a testament to the power of reduction. Hoyland shows us how much can be communicated with so little. Editor: Absolutely. This painting is a gentle nudge to look closer, to listen to what the colors are saying.