Joan Mitchell
Untitled, 1992
Joan Mitchell
Gallery Information:
David Zwirner – New York: 20th St.
Hours:
Tu - Sa: 10am - 6pm
Hers were the first brushstrokes I ever recognized… One day I turned the corner of a museum I was visiting for the first time, and I just knew that the massive painting before me was hers. It seemed that the hours I had spent pouring over her work in the months previously had honed my eye and won my heart. Two years later, I am even more devoted to the work of Joan Mitchell.
There is just something about her paintings… bold, demanding, and, to borrow a word from the country she loved, sauvage. I love the movement and depth of her brushstrokes, the way in which her colors tell a story—connected and interwoven, yet never actually bleeding into one another… a skill I am still learning in my personal relationships. Oh, to master the dance of interconnectedness without falling into the trap of codependence… to be in conversation and relation while maintaining autonomy and a sense of self. I am learning these lessons so slowly and am grateful for Michell’s paintings for inspiration.
So, I was thrilled this summer when my new friend David Leiber kindly walked me through Joan Mitchell’s exhibit I carry my landscapes around with me at David Zwirner, the gallery which has represented her foundation exclusively since May 2018.
I was so at home within her work that I was quite tempted to tell my team to leave me… that I would just spend the next few days within her landscapes. The exhibit which brought together four decades of her work and was the first ever to focus entirely on her multi-paneled paintings was nothing short of spectacular. It was, in fact, so well received that the dates were extended.
Untitled (Detail), 1992
Joan Mitchell
Rivière, 1990
Joan Mitchell
Row, Row, 1982
Joan Mitchell
Edrita Fried (Detail), 1981
Joan Mitchell
Sunflowers, 1990-1991
Joan Mitchell
Interestingly though, it was not the art that had the most impact on me… though it certainly had a large one. It was a small video clip that the gallery shared of Joan Mitchell being interviewed for her documentary “Joan Mitchell: Portraits of an Abstract Painter.” Within it, Mitchell shared that she believed she had ‘a Big Joan and a Little Joan… Big Joan’s job was to protect little Joan, though she wasn’t always nice about it, and Little Joan’s job was to paint, to create. Big Joan did things like interviews and traveling while Little Joan stayed home and played with the dogs. Big Joan’s job was out in the world—Little Joan’s was in the studio which she regularly kicked Big Joan out of.’ Perhaps this was a belief system and strategy that was developed with her dear friend and psychoanalyst Edrita Fried, for whom a gorgeous quadriptych within the exhibit was named.
When I first watched this excerpt, I did not give it a lot of thought. I remember saying to myself, ‘interesting,’ and then I left the idea… or so I thought. Yet, weeks later, in the middle of a conversation that was not in any way going how I had hoped, it was Joan Mitchell’s idea that came to mind. In that moment, I realized that I had brought Little Eli to a meeting that was much more suited for Big Eli. And, as I sensed myself starting to shut down—feeling misunderstood—I heard Big Lizzie say: “You know what, little one… why don’t you let me take this one over? Spend the next little while thinking about what you would like to write next week, and I will handle this nonsense.”
Edrita Fried, 1981
Joan Mitchell
While this shift in presence and focus definitely made the next thirty minutes more manageable, I left that interaction feeling as though I had failed because I had not fully shown up or stayed.
Yet, as I continue to reflect, I am beginning to wonder if it isn’t actually quite wise and loving to allow the most capable parts of myself to show up for different aspects of my life. Perhaps, being strategic with what part of myself I delegate to a situation is not mutually exclusive to my commitment to being present and authentic.
I believe Joan was onto something quite profound. I find myself now asking which part of me is best equipped for the task at hand and think the conscious choosing is important. It is always good to know who is driving… Sometimes, like in writing this article, Big Eli and Little Eli both get to take part.