In my blog Dia, I wrote about my new art loves, Agnes Martin and Fred Sandbach/Sandback. But Dia is near New York City, about 40 minutes on the train north, along the Hudson and I am not there!
The show at the Tate features works that were not at Dia. It is a bit of a retrospective, so Martin’s early works are shown. And then, like I said in Piet Mondrian at Margate blog, you suddenly walk into a room that are Martins. The full, realised art.
Each work is in the same square dimension, very unusual as most paintings are landscape or portrait; rectangles of containment rather than squares. They are works of art. Not about art. Not about something. Just the thing itself.
And then the room I could live in. Twelve mainly white paintings, like twelve tribes. Each different, each individual. Barely there yet containing everything.