THE D R AWI N G CENTER
130
Mateo Lรณpez Undo List
The Drawing Center January 20 – March 19, 2017 Main Gallery
Mateo Lรณpez Undo List
Organized by Claire Gilman
D R AW I N G PA P E R S 13 0
Essays by Claire Gilman and Niko Vicario Photography by Martin Parsekian
Introduction
Claire Gilman
I first met Mateo López five years ago when I was in Bogotá preparing for an exhibition of another much-lauded practitioner of Colombian drawing, Medellín-based draftsman José Antonio Suárez Londoño. Whereas Londoño’s intimate, diaristic drawings are characterized by an acute sensitivity to line, color, and texture, the younger López, like many of his peers, adopts a more conceptual approach often beginning with a verbal directive (for example, the phrase “on the tip of my tongue”) which he then executes in material form. His gesture is streamlined, even efficient, in his drawings of spare, recognizable motifs as well as in his rudimentary, three-dimensional geometric constructions. He shares with Londoño, however, an interest in craft that he attributes to a Colombian artistic tradition privileging the intimate and the handmade over monumental display. According to López, in a country that has struggled to adapt to the industrialized world there has arisen “an ability to take things as they are available and to make use of the materials at hand.”1 In his work, this translates to an interest in the propositional nature of existence and drawing’s role as a method of articulation. Drawing is more than an artistic medium for López; it is a way of conceiving and inhabiting the world. In his words, just as every manufactured object began as a drawing or rendering (“a building was a drawing at some point, that aircraft I hear crossing the sky, the plan of this city”), so too must we understand that “an image is not flat; it is an atmosphere, it contains time and space.”2 Trained as an architect and technical draftsman before entering art school, López had an artistic breakthrough in 2006 at his solo 1 2
7
Mateo López, conversation with the author, November 3, 2016. López, email exchange with the author, May 26, 2012.
exhibition at Casas Riegner in Bogotá when he relocated his studio to the gallery and painstakingly reconstructed the tools of his craft for gallery visitors. Two-dimensional drawings of two-dimensional objects (for instance, near exact replicas of lined sheets of paper) joined three-dimensional drawings of three-dimensional objects made by sketching and folding to create trompe l’oeil paper sculptures (e.g., a box holding a bottle of black ink fashioned from cardboard and embellished with the same ink that the original box contained). Since then, López has continued to explore drawing as a way to construct and deconstruct everyday objects and situations, often integrating fictive two-dimensional renditions with actual found objects that have personal associations or that reference the artist’s political and social heritage. The 2011 exhibition Nowhere Man at the Drawing Room in London showcased an anonymous artist’s workroom complete with evidence of the protagonist’s earlier projects, while A Room Inside a Room at Casey Kaplan gallery in New York in 2015 juxtaposed objects made and used in Bogotá with similar constructions sourced in the artist’s new home base of New York City. Part and parcel of any reconstructive project, however, is the inevitable failure that accompanies it, a dynamic that López has started grappling with head on. If López has consistently exploited precise control in rendering the imagination visible, he has recently begun to confront the ideality of the drawn line with the physical resistance of its material presentation. In Undo List, this results in both a broader and more intimate scope. Gone is the mise-en-abyme of the studiocum-exhibition space; in its place is a multidisciplinary installation that features works on paper, sculpture, performance, and projected film all set within a network of schematic interlocking rooms. The anonymous architectural setting immediately marks the exhibition space as a place—not a specific place like the artist’s studio, although the artist’s presence is residually felt throughout, but a place as such where ideas are posed and encountered. Hence the inclusion of two films projected on the walls each featuring close-up shots of hands manipulating simple objects and drawing tools, many of which are on view in one form or another elsewhere in the exhibition. Hence, too, the participation of choreographer and dancer Lee Serle whose hands and masked face appear in the film and who, at set
8
times during the run of the show, physically accompanies the films with responses to the gestures invoked therein and by occasionally rearranging the objects on view. What exactly does this activation entail? In the films, as objects are submitted to mind-numbing repetitions (the monotonous folding and refolding of a notebook page, the endless rearranging of sheets of colored paper), we seem to witness both an anxiety for control and the fragility of the medium used to achieve it. This duality is reinforced by the juxtaposition between the animated filmic gestures and their static equivalents within the rooms: a stack of graphite-covered paper with which López awkwardly attempts to form a trompe l’oeil parallelogram lies on a table in an inert albeit suggestive pile; a bent ruler that, in the film, folds and unfolds in a kind of mechanistic ballet sits ungracefully suspended and immobile. Works like these are joined by poetic testaments to creative dialogue and its dissembling (e.g., a shredded conversation about drawing between López and South African artist William Kentridge spilling out of a dustpan on the floor) as well as the recycled remnants of failed endeavors (e.g., a paper spine composed from the collaged notes for previous aborted projects). What remains consistent throughout is a sustained effort at communication, however stalled or upended it might be. This ceaseless impulse—beautifully conveyed by a close-up shot in the film of Serle’s hands making unreadable gestures—is the fundamental province of drawing. As López observes: “To draw is to walk and go back, to get entangled in movement, to have meetings, to go from one place to another without rest in a straight line and not get held up on the road, to contemplate one’s surroundings and continue drawing.”3 It is this expanded model of drawing and, implicit in it, this awareness that creativity implies both a doing and undoing, that Undo List makes visible. I would like to thank Mateo for his intelligence, good will, and enthusiasm at every stage of this project. It has been a pleasure to get to know Mateo and to see his work develop over the past several 3
9
López in Interrogating Systems: 2008 CIFO Grants and Commissions Exhibition (Miami: CIFO Art Space, 2008), n.pag.
years. Above all, it has been a privilege to observe what drawing can do and be through his eyes. This show would not have been possible without the support of a few key individuals. Catalina Casas of Casas Riegner, Bree Jeppson of The Rolex Institute, Loring Randolph of Casey Kaplan gallery, Alison Buchbinder of Polskin Arts, and Ana Sokoloff of Sokoloff + Associates each provided indispensable support and assistance at every step of the way. Special thanks are also due to Laura González of Sokoloff + Associates and Nathan Bennett and Veronica Levitt of Casey Kaplan gallery. Finally, I would like to thank Niko Vicario for his astute catalogue essay and Lee Serle for his profound choreographic response to Mateo’s work. The Drawing Center’s hardworking staff deserves recognition for its role in realizing this exhibition. Special thanks go to Brett Littman, Executive Director; Joanna Ahlberg, Managing Editor; Peter J. Ahlberg, AHL&CO; Noah Chasin, Executive Editor; DéLana Dameron-John, Development Director; Alice Stryker, former Development Director; Dan Gillespie, Operations Manager; Molly Gross, Communications Director; and Olga Valle Tetkowski, Exhibition Manager. I would above all like to thank Nova Benway, Assistant Curator, for managing the logistics of this exhibition with great finesse. Finally, I am incredibly appreciative of the steadfast support of The Drawing Center’s Board of Trustees and of the exhibition funders who have supported this show and its accompanying catalogue: the Rolex Institute, Estrellita Brodsky, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Colombia, Ana Sokoloff, and Ann and Marshall Webb, as well as Travesía Cuatro, Giorgio Griffa and Casey Kaplan gallery, Galeria Luisa Strina, and Casas Riegner, without whom this exhibition would not have been possible.
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The Making of Mateo Lรณpez
Niko Vicario
Mateo López arrived in New York from Bogotá with a small box of tools. Inside were pencils, a compass, binder clips, a glue stick, a few rubber bands, a plastic container of pins, and an impressive pair of scissors, among other things. This collection enabled him to compress his studio from the size of a room to the size of a shoebox, rendering it mobile. The way in which portability binds together disparate localities via objects has been key to many of López’s investigations up to this time, as when he reconstructed his Bogotá studio at the Casas Riegner gallery. In another project, López shrank the space to a manageable cargo, attaching it to the back of a motorcycle that he rode around Colombia. The role of the portable studio in López’s practice proves analogous, anticipatory, and at times responsive to the ways in which his author function is geoculturally recoded when he and his work cross borders. As López notes, his rising status as a “Colombian artist” has been contemporaneous with his recent move to New York, as well as with the increasing visibility of his work on an international stage.1 What’s more, the artist’s career has developed in tandem with the current Latin American art boom, during which
1
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Mateo López, conversation with the author, Brooklyn, New York, October 9, 2016. That López becomes “Colombian” when living and working outside of Colombia is simultaneously ironic and perfectly in keeping with the logic of the art world. However, what “Colombian artist” might mean today is a topic of debate, cleaving between artists deemed ethically responsible in their projection of violence and repression in Colombia to the international art world on the one hand and a growing tendency among a younger generation of artists (including López) to work within a language of nonobjective form less legibly linked to the politics of “home.” For a recent overview of this insurmountable antinomy, see Carlos Motta’s contribution to “A Personal Latin America,” frieze.com, August 12, 2016, https://frieze.com/article/ personal-latin-america, accessed November 7, 2016.
museums, collectors, art historians, and the art market have anointed geometric abstraction as the aesthetic by which art from the region most successfully brokers itself.2 The work made between the 1940s and the 1970s by artists such as Tomás Maldonado in Argentina, Jesús Rafael Soto and Gego in Venezuela, and Lygia Clark and Hélio Oiticica in Brazil has recently garnered unprecedented attention, in turn reshaping the mold for a younger generation of artists from Latin America seeking international recognition. These conditions and their circumnavigation are apparent in some of López’s works, particularly those engaged with geometric form. There is also perhaps an alternative strain of Latin Americanism, one largely overlooked in the current trend, in the modesty and lyricism characterizing much of his practice.3 Even the narration of the artist arriving in New York with a small box of tools—propagated by the author—conforms to a tradition (both material and theoretical, both pragmatic and programmatic) of making do and of improvising with limited resources, while making of those limitations an inverted horizon of possibility outside of the totalizing schema of industrial modernity’s technocratic thrust. His productions recall something of Lygia Clark’s replicable and recombinant modularity, informed by a similar sense that each object should be experienced as an iteration within an ongoing process of research residing somewhere between the geometric prototype and a world outside the studio, the gallery, and the museum—a 2
3
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For more on cultural brokering, see Mari Carmen Ramírez, “Brokering Identities: Art Curators and the Politics of Cultural Representation,” in Reesa Greenberg, Bruce W. Ferguson, and Sandy Naime, eds., Thinking about Exhibitions (London; New York: Routledge, 1996), 21–38. For an updated approach to these themes addressing the rise of geometric abstraction in the discourse on Latin American art, see Kaira M. Cabañas, “If the Grid Is the New Palm Tree of Latin American Art,” Oxford Art Journal 33 (3): 365–83. For a recent examination of the problematic category of Latin American art, see José Luis Falconi, “No Me Token; or, How to Make Sure We Never Lose the * Completely,” Guggenheim UBS Map, October 30, 2013, https://www. guggenheim.org/blogs/map/no-me-token-or-how-to-make-sure-we-never-lose-thecompletely, accessed November 7, 2016. As López explains in one interview: “I’m like a mix of different narratives from Latin American culture: its art, its literature, its cinema, its music.” López, interviewed by Hans Ulrich Obrist (2010/2015), in Hans Ulrich Obrist, Conversations in Colombia (Bogotá: La Oficina del Doctor, 2015), 187.
world where such test cases might be rescaled and repurposed.4 This philosophy of the object, and of making more generally, also echoes the Bauhaus exercises that López cites as a reference point.5 This particular genealogy ties his practice both to the mythos of European modernism and its universalist aspirations, as well as to the ways in which these concepts were reconceived and repurposed diversely by a range of artists across Latin America (including Clark) and in López’s adopted home of New York, by artists such as Eva Hesse. Notably, López expresses fatigue with an enduring narrative—in contemporary art, in art historical scholarship, and in other academic fields—of modernism’s failure in Latin America. The utopian dream, coded via geometric abstraction, either failed to transplant organically, or, alternatively, revealed its hollowness when confronted with local political and economic conditions that it failed to transform. López’s work formulates a return to the seedlings of modernism’s proposals—what we might call their embryonic plasticity and their potential for intercultural portability. They are humble propositions in the forms of objects and situations—open and contingent. When I met with López at his studio, a typical conversion from a site of industry to a site of artmaking in Brooklyn’s Bushwick neighborhood, he was quick to note the particularities of making work in New York compared to doing so in Bogotá. For instance, he notes the streamlined protocols of contracting New York fabricators with whom he collaborates in producing furniture and displays for the presentations of his drawings and objects, compared to the artisanal, highly specialized contributions of his earlier partners in Bogotá.6 Indeed, he is attuned to the cultural differences that might inform the way in which works of art are produced as well as the particular materials and techniques to which one has access in a given place— an unevenness that gestures to the persistent asymmetries of our ostensibly “global” present.
4
5 6
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See amongst others Cornelia Butler and Luis Pérez-Oramas, Lygia Clark: The Abandonment of Art, 1948–1988 (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 2014). López, conversation with the author. Ibid.
In light of López’s attention to the varied conditions for producing art, we might ask how these framings (in addition to the framing of López as “Colombian” and/or “Latin American”) square with the most constant drive in his polymorphous practice—the art of drawing. But what is the status of drawing today when in the field of architecture, in which López briefly trained, the practice has been largely replaced by digital rendering, in turn rearranging and redefining the relationship between the body, the hand, ideation, materialization, and space? In the field of art, drawing must compete with a variety of other formats, media, and technologies that telegraph the present with far fewer interpretive leaps. In other words, how might the well-worn practice of drawing adapt to the twenty-first century? For López, drawing is both a starting and an ending point, though it frequently comes in contact with sculptural objects, display furniture, the space of the gallery, and the artist’s own performing hand at various stages of its visibility. Of course, drawing bears a deep historical relationship to plans, models, and their realization, a relationship that sharpens the connection between drawing and the other forms art might take, in which the two-dimensional rendering becomes the three-dimensional worlds we occupy. Drawing might function as a hinge between the immaterial and the material as well as between the virtual and the spatial. This interstice cleaves open new depths in the present, characterized by social media, data centers, and surveillance, to name a few components of a public sphere redefined by the Internet in which the rhetoric of dematerialization blinds us to the enduring thingness of things. Within this reformatted relationship between objects, space, and experience, the art exhibition and its phenomenological unfolding become charged by their anomalous relationship to the majority of modes through which visual experience, object experience, and interpersonal interaction currently take “place.” It is at this nexus that we might locate some early glimpses of the works for The Drawing Center, where López brings together drawing, sculpture, and the luminescence of screens within a scenography of rooms. In one object encountered at the studio, graphite oscillates between means to an end (inscription/depiction) and emergence as
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the mineral it is, revealed through over-application to a surface so that matter accumulates, hovering both on and above things. López has seemed wary, even technophobic, in earlier conversations about the relationship between drawing and computer technologies.7 However, his time in New York has been characterized by a more fluid and playful approach to technological transformation and remediation, apparent in his expanding incorporation of video and animation and in beginning to think through the uses of 3-D printing as a process with which to experiment.8 We must think between media to understand the particular function of making and seeing in this moment. And so we end where we began—with a box of tools.
7 8
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López, interviewed by Hans Ulrich Obrist, 178. López, conversation with the author.
PLS . 1, 2
Spatial Construction No. 29 (Bed Slats), 2016
PLS . 3, 4
Period Rooms, 2013
PL . 5
Flexn (Beam), 2017
PL . 6
Bed Slats (Vertical), 2016
PL . 7
Four Seasons (From left: Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter), 2015
PL . 8
Snooze, 2016
PL . 9
Si, no, si, no, si (Tumulo) [Yes, no, yes, no, yes (Mound)], 2016
PL . 10
10:10, 2016
PL . 11
Head to Arm and Back, 2016
PL . 12
Inventory, 2016
PL . 13
Draftsman’s Chair, 2015
PL . 14
Lapse, 2016
PL . 15
Plan for Cement Tile (Mesh), 2016
PL . 16
Stretch, 2016
PL . 17
Xué, 2016
PL . 18
Efecto dominรณ [Domino Effect], 2016
PL . 19
Cuentas [Necklace], 2016
PL . 20
Antonym (Model B3 Chair), 2016
PL . 21
Fosforitos [Matches], 2016
PL . 22
Sobremesa, 2016
PL . 23
Serpentine, 2016
PL . 24
A-B, B-C, C-A, A-D, B-D, C-D (Tetrahedron), 2015
PL . 25
Knot (After Bruce Nauman), 2016
PL . 26
Bolillos [Batons], 2017
PL . 27
Disclose, 2016
PL . 28
Twins, 2016
PL . 29
Vertebrae, 2015
PL . 30
Infra-mince [Infra-thin], 2016
PL . 31
Circling the Table, 2016
PL . 32
Visual Score (Small Worlds after W. Kandinsky), 2017
PL . 33
Craps, 2016
PLS . 34, 35
Celestial Pole, 2015
PL . 36
Look Back, Move Forward, 2016
PL . 37
Lee’s Accumulations (After Trisha Brown), 2016
PL . 38
Apple, 2015; Helix, 2016; PliĂŠ (Folding Ruler), 2016; Table, 2016
PL . 39
Bird, 2017
PL . 40
Set, 2016
PL . 41
Spatial Construction No. 27, 2016
PL . 42
Allotment, 2015
PLS . 43–49
Stills from Time as Activity, 2016
L I S T O F P L AT E S
PL . 8
Snooze, 2016 All works courtesy of the artist and Casey
Paper
Kaplan, New York; Casas Riegner, Colombia;
3 1/4 x 2 1/2 x 2 inches (8.3 x 6.4 x 5 cm)
Luisa Strina, Brazil; and Travesía Cuatro, Mexico and Spain, unless otherwise noted.
PL . 9
Si, no, si, no, si (Tumulo) [Yes, no, yes, PLS . 1, 2
no, yes (Mound)], 2016
Spatial Construction No. 29 (Bed Slats), 2016
Watercolor and graphite on paper
White oak
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
45 x 45 x 38 inches (114 x 114 x 96.5 cm) PL . 10 PLS . 3, 4
10:10, 2016
Period Rooms, 2013
Ink on cut paper
Cut-out colored paper, cardboard, cloth
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
Dimensions variable Courtesy of the artist
PL . 11
Head to Arm and Back, 2016 PL . 5
Graphite and watercolor on cut paper
Flexn (Beam), 2017
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
Watercolor on paper 30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
PL . 12
Inventory, 2016 PL . 6
Ink and graphite on paper
Bed Slats (Vertical), 2016
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
Wood veneer and graphite on paper 30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
PL . 13
Draftsman’s Chair, 2015 PL . 7
White oak
Four Seasons (From left: Spring,
16 x 16 x 32 inches (40.6 x 40.6 x 81 cm)
Summer, Fall, Winter), 2015
Courtesy of the artist and Casey Kaplan,
Carpenter’s hammer, plant, wood,
New York
paper, marble balls, wood shelf 71 x 10 x 17 inches (180.3 x 25.4 x 43.2 cm)
PL . 14
Courtesy of the artist and Casey Kaplan,
Lapse, 2016
New York
Graphite on cut and assembled recycled paper 16 x 16 x 7 1/2 inches (40.6 x 40.6 x 19 cm)
102
PL . 15
PL . 22
Plan for Cement Tile (Mesh), 2016
Sobremesa, 2016
Graphite and red pencil on cut paper
Cut-up paper transcript of a conversation
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
about drawing between López and artist William Kentridge, dustpan, brush
PL . 16
Dimensions variable
Stretch, 2016 Graphite, gold leaf paper, and cut-out
PL . 23
colored paper on paper
Serpentine, 2016
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
Wood, graphite on paper 36 x 36 x 36 inches (91.4 x 91.4 x 91.4 cm)
PL . 17
Courtesy of the artist and Casey Kaplan,
Xué, 2016
New York
Plaster, gold leaf 9 x 6 1/2 x 4 inches (22.9 x 16.5 x 10.2 cm)
PL . 24
A-B, B-C, C-A, A-D, B-D, C-D (Tetrahedron), PL . 18
2015
Efecto dominó [Domino Effect], 2016
Wood, graphite
Watercolor and graphite on paper
7 1/2 x 8 1/2 x 7 1/2 inches (19 x 21.6 x 19 cm)
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
Courtesy of the artist and Casey Kaplan, New York
PL . 19
Cuentas [Necklace], 2016
PL . 25
Ink on paper
Knot (After Bruce Nauman), 2016
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
Ink and black string on paper 30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
PL . 20
Antonym (Model B3 Chair), 2016
PL . 26
Watercolor and ink on paper
Bolillos [Batons], 2017
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
Ink on paper 30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
PL . 21
Fosforitos [Matches], 2016
PL . 27
Watercolor on paper
Disclose, 2016
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
Ink, watercolor, graphite, and red pencil on paper 30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
103
PL . 28
PLS . 34, 35
Twins, 2016
Celestial Pole, 2015
Ink on paper
Paper, metal, marble, compass
2 x 4 1/4 inches (5 x 10.8 cm)
98 x 19 1/4 x 21 inches (248.9 x 48.9 x 53.3 cm) Courtesy of the artist and Casey Kaplan,
PL . 29
New York
Vertebrae, 2015 Recycled note paper, wire, string, nail
PL . 36
25 x 3 x 8 inches (63.5 x 7.6 x 20.3 cm)
Look Back, Move Forward, 2016
Collection of Clarice Oliveira Tavares,
Graphite and red pencil on cut paper
New York
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
PL . 30
PL . 37
Infra-mince [Infra-thin], 2016
Lee’s Accumulations (After Trisha Brown), 2016
Ink and red pencil on paper
Ink and red pencil on paper
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
PL . 31
PL . 38
Circling the Table, 2016
Apple, 2015
Ink on paper
Paper, ink, apple seeds and stem
30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)
3 1/4 x 3 1/4 x 3 inches (8.3 x 8.3 x 7.6 cm) Courtesy of the artist
PL . 32
Visual Score (Small Worlds after
Helix, 2016
W. Kandinsky), 2017
Concrete cast, paper, ink
Graphite, red pencil, and cut and
7 x 7 inches (17.8 x 17.8 cm)
recycled paper on notebook, white shelf 9 x 12 inches (22.9 x 30.5 cm)
PliĂŠ (Folding Ruler), 2016 Found ruler
PL . 33
Dimensions variable
Craps, 2016 Paper
Table, 2016
Dimensions variable
Red pencil on paper mounted on board, metal table 78 1/2 x 33 x 33 inches (199 x 83.8 x 83.8 cm)
104
PL . 39
Bird, 2017 Laser-cut mat board 4 x 2 x 1 3/4 inches (10.2 x 5.1 x 4.4 cm) PL . 40
Set, 2016 Red pencil on cast concrete, coins 6 1/2 x 3 x 3 1/2 inches (16.5 x 7.6 x 8.9 cm) PL . 41
Spatial Construction No. 27, 2016 Ten wood pieces (recycled white oak, ash, walnut, mahogany, cherry) Dimensions variable PL . 42
Allotment, 2015 Slate, chalk Dimensions variable PLS . 43–49
Time as Activity, 2016 Two-channel video projection 54 minutes
105
CONTRIBUTORS
Claire Gilman is Senior Curator at The Drawing Center. Niko Vicario is Assistant Professor of Art and the History of Art at Amherst College. He holds a PhD in the History, Theory and Criticism of Art from MIT and an MA in Curatorial Studies from Bard College.
BOARD OF DIRECTORS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Co-Chairs
Mateo López: Undo List is made possible by the
Rhiannon Kubicka
support of the Rolex Institute, Estrellita Brodsky,
Jane Dresner Sadaka
Ana Sokoloff, and Ann and Marshall Webb. Additional support is provided by the Embassy
Frances Beatty Adler
of Colombia in the United States through the
Dita Amory
Promotion Plan of Colombia Abroad of the
Brad Cloepfil
Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Colombia.
Anita F. Contini Andrea Crane
Special thanks to: Travesía Cuatro; Giorgio Griffa
Stacey Goergen
and Casey Kaplan, New York; Galeria Luisa
Amy Gold
Strina; and Casas Riegner.
Steven Holl Iris Z. Marden
The Drawing Center gives special recognition to
Galia Meiri-Stawski
the Rolex Institute for helping to support Mateo
Nancy Poses
López’s Undo List exhibition. The Rolex Mentor
Eric Rudin
and Protégé Arts Initiative is aimed at ensuring
David Salle
that the world’s artistic heritage is passed on from
Joyce Siegel
generation to generation and across continents
Barbara Toll
and cultures. The Rolex Mentor and Protégé Arts
Waqas Wajahat
Initiative helps rising young artists achieve their
Isabel Stainow Wilcox
full potential by pairing them with great masters
Candace Worth
for a year of intense one-to-one collaboration. Since 2002, Rolex has brought together a total of
Emeritus
50 mentor and protégé pairs in the fields of archi-
Michael Lynne
tecture, dance, film, literature, music, theatre and
George Negroponte
visual arts to participate in this unique creative
Elizabeth Rohatyn
exchange. In the 2012–2013 series of the philan-
Jeanne C. Thayer
thropic program, Colombian artist Mateo López worked with acclaimed South African visual artist
Executive Director
William Kentridge, who helped him expand the
Brett Littman
scope of his innovative drawings and installations.
D irector ’ s C ouncil
C atalogue S ponsor
Frances Beatty Adler and Allen Adler
George Ahl
Devon Dikeou and Fernando Troya
Maryann Dresner
Steven Holl
Libby and Adrian Ellis
Rhiannon Kubicka and
Stephen Figge
Jane and Michael Horvitz
Mr. Theo Blackston
Constance and H. Roemer McPhee
Patrick Kissane
Judith Levinson Oppenheimer and
Nicole Klagsbrun
Nancy Olnick and Giorgio Spanu
John Oppenheimer
Nancy and Fred Poses
Thea Westreich Wagner and
Fiona and Eric Rudin
Ethan Wagner
Jane Dresner Sadaka and Ned Sadaka
Karen Zukowski and David Diamond
Lisa Silver and Jean-Christophe Castelli Galia Meiri-Stawski and Axel Stawski
E ducation B enefactor
Barbara Toll
Jeffrey Beck
Isabel Stainow Wilcox
Annie Elliott and John Williams Elliott Mia Enell and Nicolas Fries
C urator ’ s C ircle
Francis Greenburger
Richard and Kathy Fuld
Yinky and Chips Moore
Jack Rudin
Nancy Reinish K. Brad Van Woert III
A rtist ’ s Patron
Mark Waskow and Susan Higby
Anne H. Bass and Julian Lethbridge Alessandra Carnielli
P rogram U nderwriter
Mickey Cartin
John Antrobus
Emy and Jacques Cohenca
Diana Balmori
Joan K. Davidson
Thomas Buser
Beth Rudin DeWoody
Romy Cohen
Jane and Peter Ezersky
Fran Deitrich and Peter Capolino
Anna Getty and Scott Osler
Zoe and Joel Dictrow
Bill Judson
Danielle Dimston
Pierre Lagrange
Elisabeth Eberle
Diane Nixon
Heide Fasnacht
Scott Rofey
Mary and Lawrence Freedman
Barbara Toll
Shelly and Vincent Fremont
Claire Weisz
Denis Gardarin Carole and Jan Glowacki Kate Gubelmann George Held
Glenda Hibler
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Stephen Kaye
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Robin Kyle
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Margaret and Daniel Loeb
Mireille Mosler
Rod Morton
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Paul Pearson
Marion Preston
Virginia and Jean Perrette
Angelica and Neil Rudenstine
Michael Putnam
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Anthony Russell
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Susan Shoemaker and Richard Tobias
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Laura Skoler Judith and Phillip Vander Weg
G aller y S upporter
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Renate Aller
Martin Wilner
Kenseth Armstead
Ryan Withall
Mary Arouni
Henry V. Zimet
Nancy and Ronald Berman Olivia Bernard Margaret and Willard Boepple Tanya Chaly Laura Cosgrave Gregory Darms James Dart Gregory Drozdek Charles Fears Gwen and David Feher Margot Finkel John Forgach Saskia Friedrich Jill Fruchter Crista Grauer Jack Hazerjian
A nnual F und
Francoise Grossen
Katie Adams Schaeffer
Linda and Hans Haacke
Elizabeth Albert
Susan Harris
Noriko Ambe
Jack Hazerjian
Dita Amory and Graham Nickson
Allison and W. Keyes Hill-Edgar
Melissa L. Kretschmer and Carl Andre
Ken Hudes
Judy and John Angelo
Nina Katchadourian
Naomi Antonakos
David G. Keeton
Jeffrey Beck
Rebecca and Gilbert Kerlin
Olivia Bernard
Eylene and Donald King
Brian Brady
Patrick Kissane
Mina Takahashi and Marco Breuer
Cynthia Knox and Carla Rae Johnson
Laurene Krasny Brown
Andrew Kohler
Constance Caplan
Sally and Werner H. Kramarsky
Prudence Carlson
Jill and Peter Kraus
Vija Celmins
Duff and John Lambros
Catalina Marta Chervin
John Laughlin
Henry and Joan Spaulding Cobb
Raymond Learsy
Wendy and David Coggins
Scott Lifshutz
Elizabeth Currie
Nancy Linden
Rachel Feinstein and John Currin
Patricia Lyell and Robert Gilston
Hester Diamond
Jordana Martin
Devon Dikeou and Fernando Troya
Billy Martin
Susan and Thomas Dunn
Constance and H. Roemer McPhee
John Tyler Evans
Linn Meyers
Gwen and David Feher
Marion Miller
Ruth Fields and Gerald McCue
Carolina Nitsch
Carol Flueckiger
Heidi and Peter Nitze
Maxine and Stuart Frankel
Mary Obering
Shelly and Vincent Fremont
Tristan Perich
Hugh Freund
Sandra Perlow
Ellen and Norman Galinsky
Olivia Petrides
Stacey and Rob Goergen
Jody Pinto
Laurel Gonsalves
Jessie and Charles Price
Nancy and Stuart Goode
David Ray
Susan M. Gosin and Richard Barrett
Barry Redlich
Kathryn and Mark Green
Janelle Reiring
Constance Grey
Jane L. Richards
Elissa and Great Neck Richman Steve Roden Ed Ruscha Anthony Russell Mary Sabbatino Suzanne Salzinger Louisa Stude Sarofim Joyce Pomeroy Schwartz Robert Seng Gil Shiva Dominique Singer and Joan Greenfield Alfred Steiner Calvin Towle Thomas Trudeau Jane and Garry Trudeau Lily Tuck Candace King Weir Kara and Steven Wise
E D WA R D H A L L A M T U C K P U B L I C AT I O N P R O G R A M
This is number 130 of the Drawing Papers, a series of publications documenting The Drawing Center’s exhibitions and public programs and providing a forum for the study of drawing. Noah Chasin Executive Editor Joanna Ahlberg Managing Editor Designed by AHL&CO This book is set in Adobe Garamond Pro and Berthold Akzidenz Grotesk. It was printed by Puritan Capital in Hollis, New Hampshire.
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THE D R AWI N G CENTER
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Essays by Claire Gilman and Niko Vicario
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$20.00 US
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