Scott Blaser By Teresita Dennis There is something undeniably
fragile about the solid blocks of greys and blacks that comprise some of these works. And then again, there is something undeniably
grave about their lightness of touch. I can’t decide if one description is closer to the experience of them than the
other, so I will have to settle for both. Whether he works with squiggly lines drawn with an exquisitely steady
hand or prints lines and lines of inky blocks, there is something strange and unfamiliar about the quality of the surfaces
and how they function. The lines and blocks will not stay still, they threaten to float apart and away, shimmering at the
corner of my eye like flotsam on a thermal. Oh and there are veils, that open and close or at least, they tease and
promise that they will do so. It’s true that on the whole, Blaser’s work belongs to a tradition
that includes the gestural abstract painters of the fifties, and the more controlled performative drawing based practices
such as Agnes Martin, Brice Marden and Ian Davenport, so already we have an arena whose poles are clearly defined both conceptually
and practically. But these new works are not some cool attempt to merge traditions or comment
upon the lack or otherwise of the ‘this or that’ of history, although they may do that, very well. No, I know Scott, I have listened to him speak about his work and
his life in one breath and I’ve heard him talk about breath, in his work and in life and he has arrived at this juncture
precisely because of that transmutability. There is something undeniably fragile hiding beneath the certainty and
vibrancy of the everyday and I think that once you get a glimpse of that, it takes your breath away. When I look at these
works I can hear the breath being taken away, and, just as I start to worry I hear it return and with it comes a flicker of
colour here and a little sparkle there. Oh yes, here comes the everyday, and how it makes me smile but at the
same time, I have to say, a little tear stings my eye. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. You know what? There’s something undeniably wonderful about that.
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