Abstract Expressionism: The Critical Developments remains the single most life-changing exhibition I’ve ever experienced.

I had seen very few art shows by that time, just whatever the AGO had shown the five years previous, and exhibitions at a handful of commercial galleries like Isaacs and Carmen Lamanna, and a few shows at artist-run centres like A Space and Mercer Union. 

Abstract Expressionism was the first big group show I saw in my life, aside from The European Iceberg and The Mystic North. I had become obsessed with all form of “art for art’s sake”, the formal fringe of modernism, and especially those art forms that had spontaneity as their driving force: bebop and free jazz; Cage; Cunningham; Brakhage; Black Mountain poetry, etc. My feeling was, in those days, that this is as good as it got. You weren’t going to find anyone who was great who wasn’t somehow involved in abstraction, improvisation, free form aesthetics, etc. 

I wasn’t alone then. A lot of my friends were discovering abstraction, difficulty and spontaneity. One of us heard about the show at the Albright-Knox and so we made our way down to Buffalo. Kate MacKay, David Morris, and Tracy Jenkins went for sure. Maybe Holly MacKay, Art Wilson, Paul Della Penna, Melony Ward, Chris Eamon, or some set thereof? I remember it being a big crowd. 

I also remember only going to the Albright-Knox. No side trips to Hallwalls or the Anchor Baro, no hotel stays or anything like that. Just a glorious road trip with one purpose in mind.

I was so serious and earnest then. I was looking for transcendence and I found it. I found it with Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko, and maybe with Clifford Styll. There were 11 glorious Styll paintings, all in the collection of the Albright-Knox. I had never really heard of him so that encounter was certainly magical. 

There were about 8 Rothkos, and they were the first ones I ever remember seeing in my life, aside from the one special work at the AGO. No 18, 1948, in particular got under my skin and continues to reside somewhere in my consciousness as the ideal of what constitutes great painting. 

Had I seen a Jackson Pollock before 1987? Maybe not in real life. It was all interesting but three really rewired me, including Number 8, 1949 (from the collection of SUNY Purchase), Number 3, 1949 (from the Hirshhorn), and then Convergence, 1952 from the Albright-Knox’s own collection. If I was forced to decide, I would still call Convergence my absolute favorite painting of all time.

I manage to get to Buffalo every so often to reaffirm my love for Convergence. The Albright-Knox has a fairly convincing account of the painting: “In the aftermath of World War II, many artists turned away from traditional styles and themes to search for new ways to express themselves. In 1951, Jackson Pollock affirmed, “It seems to me that the modern painter cannot express his age, the airplane, the atom bomb, the radio, in the old forms of the Renaissance or any other past culture. Each age finds its own technique.” During the late 1940s, Pollock developed the technique for which he is best known—drip painting. He placed the canvas on the floor and stated, “this way I can walk around it, work from the four sides and literally be in the painting.” For Pollock, the process of dripping, pouring, and splattering provided him with a combination of chance and control. Little bits of everyday life also made their way into the composition. Among the interwoven skeins and stains of pigment, objects such as nails and coins can be found on the surface. For example, a small match is embedded in paint near the center of Convergence. Searching for something to follow his drip paintings, Pollock began working in black and white, which is the way Convergence began. Not happy with the result, he added color as a way to salvage the work. In 1952, critics debated whether or not he had succeeded. Today, however, Convergence is considered one of the artist’s masterworks.”

It was quite an exhibition and I haven’t even mentioned the Frank Kline, Robert Motherwell, Barnett Newman, and Adolph Gottlieb pieces that were also presented to me for my first time.