I first noticed Stephen Westfall’s geometric abstractions within the mid-Nineteen Eighties, when he set his grids towards monochromatic grounds. What quickly set him other than others working on this mode was that his grids had been askew, as if his California upbringing and consciousness of earthquakes made him aware that every part may collapse. Together with creating and exhibiting his artwork right now, Westfall — who appears to own boundless vitality — wrote usually for Artwork in America and periodically organized exhibitions targeted on geometric abstraction.
Westfall’s ardour for the roots of geometric abstraction in the USA, and his championing of lesser-known artists similar to Ward Jackson and Ralston Crawford, revealed him to be heartfelt, non-dogmatic, single-minded, intellectually curious, and unconcerned with developments and {the marketplace}. These qualities, in tandem with the arc of his profession, piqued my curiosity once I realized that he had curated an intergenerational exhibition, A Planar Backyard, at Alexandre Gallery.

Westfall’s definition of planar portray is easy. Everybody works on a rectangle and makes planes which have crisp edges with out counting on tape or making gestural marks, or what is perhaps construed as strains. It’s refreshing to see a gaggle present that hews to its curatorial assertion, and consists of each outdated pals and surprising twists. (Surveying the exhibition, I noticed that I had written about 10 of the 16 artists.) Uneven and all the time inclined to the motion of air, an untitled tabletop cell by Alexander Calder (c. 1950–60s) units the tone for the exhibition, which I’d characterize as an unfixed geometry. In his mobiles, a sculptural type he invented, Calder’s playfully defiant exploration of a destabilized geometry runs counter to the geometric abstraction of the Summary Expressionists and the logical progressions of Op Artwork.
I used to be glad to see “Untitled” (1999) by Harriet Korman, during which interlocking curved varieties part off a rectangle. Three of the portray’s sections are brown, a shade that the artist has included in lots of works over time; this isn’t a simple feat, since brown doesn’t all the time work optically in abstractions.

Odili Donald Odita’s use of scalene triangles and reconstituted black wooden veneer, which composes an image of Blackness, is a reminder that abstraction isn’t purely a White invention. Tiny vertical striations inflecting the work’ prefabricated black surfaces add one other visible factor to this excellent artist’s work.
Two welcome surprises within the exhibition are works by Joanna Pousette-Dart and Polly Apfelbaum. Recognized for her stacked, gently arcing varieties, Pousette-Dart’s maverick, formed work haven’t been sufficiently appreciated in the USA. In these items, as Carter Ratcliff wrote in Hyperallergic, Pousette-Dart “discovered an unique method to be unique.” The 2 stacked varieties in her latest portray “Evening Stripe” (2024), measuring 30 1/2 x 37 3/4 inches, made me wish to sit in a room surrounded by equally sized work.
The glazed terracotta work “Block Stripes” (2022) by Polly Apfelbaum is the exhibition’s greatest shock. I’ve come to think about Apfelbaum as an set up artist whose “fallen work,” as she calls them, include many dyed cloth parts organized in situ on the ground. Prior to now, they’ve made a powerful first impression on me that by no means lasted. “Block Stripes” (2022) is a promising outlier in her ouevre. The muted colours of the vertical stripes are capped alongside the highest and backside by small blocks in one other shade. Maybe this work indicators a brand new avenue of exploration for the artist.

The linear parts and curving and arabesque shapes, every in a stable shade, in Patricia Trieb’s “Torque II” (2024) are derived from a variety of sources. Thinly painted on an off-white floor, Trieb’s works are drawings in paint, during which brushy areas are seen inside the varieties. Their languid sensuality is riveting. The figure-ground relationship oscillates between painted varieties and the unpainted areas between them. The interplay of the varieties establishes one other visible dialogue inside the image aircraft. The items are inviting and distant, direct and elusive. A well-researched museum survey of the artist is so as.
In Westfall’s personal “Summit” (2024), he interrupts his subject of flat, overlapping triangles pushing in from the perimeters with a volumetric type in two colours descending diagonally from the portray’s higher left nook. It’s this sort of disruption that the viewer repeatedly encounters within the exhibition, a way that geometry is rarely mounted and may nonetheless astonish.



A Planar Backyard continues at Alexandre Gallery (25 East 73rd Avenue, Second & Third Flooring, Higher East Aspect, Manhattan) via February 1. The exhibition was curated by Stephen Westfall.