Richard Tuttle

His works have a presence that lingers; like sensation or energy, they flicker with honesty and fragility. I believe this activation comes about in his work because ‘it is crucial to the artwork that it be put in a ‘situation’… it is the object only and not the site that demands these definitive circumstances in order to achieve that sense of ‘rightness’ Tuttle always seeks which makes the piece come alive’ (Grynsztejn, M. & Butler C. 2005, p. 43) This ability to make it come alive is the point I am currently at when showing my work, trying to find that ‘rightness’ is a very gentle kind of touch and a relationship that flits between the work and its site. 

This problematisation of ‘rightness’ becomes twofold when the works also have multiple ways to be installed; a similarity is shared in my work. Especially in the example of Tuttle’s octagonal works, where ‘they have no back, no front, no up or down, they may be attached to the wall or spread out on the floor. Imagine making an object which will maintain its integrity in all circumstances’ (Grynsztejn, M. & Butler C. 2005, p. 36). That challenge to make something that has integrity in all situations is something that fascinates me. I love the capacity that it can imbue an object with, despite how difficult it is to achieve. I believe Tuttle’s installation of these sorts of works to be very successful in functioning this way, an unmediated relationship in making works and spaces come to life. 

What fascinates me with Tuttle’s installations and objects is his use of scale. It regularly keeps me reconsidering the need to make bigger work because bigger does not always equal better. By keeping to a smaller scale, a more human scale, the works ‘oblige us to scrutinise them more closely, so too do they insist on an intensified apprehension of their, and our, surroundings, without in any way “filling up” much actual space…relies on an impeccable sense of measure and proportion…of the object in relation to one’s body and to the room” (Grynsztejn, M. & Butler C. 2005, p. 44). I want to sharpen my ability to make smaller pieces work harder in this way to tighten up my installations. 

As colour becomes more apparent in my work during this unit, reading into Tuttle’s relationship with using colour alongside the line has been very insightful. The following three quotes have been invaluable to me in thinking about what it means to use colour and understanding where I want to sit with this in my own practice. ‘One of colour’s greatest appeals for Tuttle is its ability to traverse space…colour was able to move deftly through space, both applied to surfaces of and across the transitions between materials, at times permeating them’ (Gross, J. 2015, p. 56). ‘The colour patch would lay claim to its territory, the line would trespass all borders’ (Poetter, J. 1993, p. 83). And here, talking about how colour is entirely different to the line in that it ‘lies down on the area, spreads out, coating and covering or becoming a transparent veil. It knows no temporal process but instead is mere existence. Colour is a fixed place to linger, it cherishes contemplation and prefers not to be disturbed…still, colour is dependent on the line, for otherwise, it would flow away without restraint…if it wants to be something, it must also be a form.’ (Poetter, J. 1993, p. 83) I think these words perfectly sum up how colour and line can come together as material entities, that they do different things, but ultimately it comes down to how they hold presence and space. Colour isn’t something I feel naturally confident with, but aligning colour with the material sensibilities of action, that it can ‘lie down’ or ‘linger’ bumps it into the realm of doing, thinking about it sculpturally, and that is somewhere I feel more confident. 

The fact that ‘if colour wants to be something, it must also be a form’ leads me to my last point regarding the wooden pieces I have been making and the necessity I felt for them to have a colour. It was a happy coincidence finding this quote and having made coloured forms. I resonate with Tuttle’s pieces made of plywood, odd and awkward shapes, standing, leaning, and performing in particular ways. Despite their three-dimensionality, that they are an object, there is something in their flatness, which goes back to the 2d of paper and the 2d of things on walls. In a way, it’s like a role reversal of bringing the line into 3d and taking the object back to 2d. The unconventional hang of Tuttle’s installation is one of my favourite things; how they are assembled, sitting at varying heights, on the floor, halfway up a wall, creating a visual engagement you are quietly coerced to move about with, that ‘readily functions as a paradox of stasis and motion and as a boundary or connection between things’ (Gross, J. 2015, p. 54).