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Since 2004, Terry Rosenberg has been working on a new, challenging and somewhat controversial body of work. For over two decades, Rosenberg has been drawing and painting the human figure in motion, which he accomplishes through his practice of observation directly from life as the movement unfolds. Indeed, some of his most celebrated work is created during rehearsals and studio performances of major dance groups such as Mark Morris Dance Group, American Ballet Theatre and Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Co., among others. |
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Since 2004, Terry Rosenberg has been working on a new, challenging and somewhat controversial body of work. For over two decades, Rosenberg has been drawing and painting the human figure in motion, which he accomplishes through his practice of observation directly from life as the movement unfolds. Indeed, some of his most celebrated work is created during rehearsals and studio performances of major dance groups such as Mark Morris Dance Group, American Ballet Theatre and Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Co., among others. In an extension of his ongoing focus on movement, Rosenberg has begun painting couples in the act of making love. And as with dancers, he has been doing so in real time with the assistance of real-life couples. But this is not a titillating, salacious or prurient body of work. Rather, it is an attempt to render a more ephemeral spiritual union between two individuals who deeply care about one another.
The following conversation, which took place in the artist’s Omaha studio this past August, was a discussion about Rosenberg’s subject matter, his philosophy and his approach. An exhibition of Rosenberg’s paintings and drawings is currently on view at Nowhere Gallery, Milan.
Kim Carpenter: You’ve been capturing motion, most notably through your drawings and paintings of dance, for some time. What was the genesis of wanting to paint this particular activity?
Terry Rosenberg: Over the past few years, I have been expanding my project into some new series, each with particular movement qualities: “Yoga,” batting practice of the “New York Yankees” and the “Love” series. I prefer responding to natural movements of people who are passionate about their activities. I don’t like to direct models because it takes me out of a focused flow state while I’m painting and breaks the continuum. My approach is more like a journalist than a fiction writer, yet it is poetics that interests me most. To get back to the genesis, in 1987, I made a series of paintings and drawings reinterpreting figurative motifs from various historical paintings. In a series of drawings I made from the Kama Sutra, there was one drawing in particular where two figures remained autonomous and in union simultaneously. It had a special life force that spoke of love. I have thought about that drawing periodically ever since.
KC: What do you mean by “union?”
TR: Union is when two people are connected often by an activity, physically, emotionally, psychically and/or spiritually. Outside of visual art, some of my interests are an exchange with movement and somatic professionals—people involved with types of bodywork and theory such as Laban, BMC, Yoga and other disciplines. They have broadened my thinking about inner awareness, yet I am working visually and painting is a medium with its own physical nature and history, so my application is very different.KC: What are Laban and BMC?
TR: Rudolf Laban was the preeminent movement theorist of the 20th century who devised a system to analyze body movement qualities. Body Mind Centering is an experiential study of the major body systems—skeletal, muscular, fluid, organ, neuro-endocrine, etc.—developed by Bonnie Bainbridge Cohen, who also studied Laban, among other things related to body movement and development.KC: Okay. So in terms of the subject matter, which some people might simplify as “sex,” are those the underlying themes that you are trying to communicate? Is this body of work just about the physical or is it also about the other connections?
TR: Drawing movement creates a transparent phenomenon where the solidity or surface of the body breaks down visually, creating an intersection where the physical, psychic and emotional emerge simultaneously. It’s impossible to separate them. It raises some fundamental questions about perception, like how we see each other. I thought about what effect this phenomenon would have on the subject of love for a few years before beginning these paintings, flashing back to that one drawing I mentioned as a source of inspiration. This subject of sex and/or love has been dealt with by thousands of artists for centuries because it is so primary to existence. Historically, images are almost always of solid bodies caught in a pose that’s illustrational and, consequently, not that interesting. And, now, pornography is so rampant on the internet that it has become a standard for how we think about or experience images of sex and/or love. When I started thinking about drawing the union of two people using the drawing methods I’ve been developing, it occurred to me that some new kinds of images might naturally occur, and this prospect interested me very much.
KC: In this regard, how does this body of work differ from what has gone before? Beyond capturing motion as it occurs, how is what you’re doing necessarily any different from what those thousands of other artists have done?
TR: I am not drawing still figures caught in one position as we are used to seeing historically in painting and even in blurred photographs. Nor am I an expressionist exploring my inner world. That said, Automatism is extended in real time by matching the movement of models. I use montage to paint transitional space/time constructs from one second to the next by piecing fragments and through-lines together. The viewer sees and feels the body even though the configurations seem abstract. This series focuses on subtle energies between two people embracing in varying configurations and moving at various speeds over time.KC: Are you trying to create an abstracted image of the act of love?
TR: The paintings embody both figure and abstraction, with the specific activity and scale giving them context. I am navigating through configurations of love via painting, physically, emotionally and energetically in space and time. The paintings are a record of sorts. Many different images of love will emerge and I am not concerned if they will be categorized as abstract or not.KC: But what are you trying to get down on paper or canvas?
TR: An idea that interests me is to draw the capitulation of two people simultaneously where their physical, psychic and emotional being unite, and I would prefer to render such with complete focus and artistic capitulation in conjunction with their activities. Theoretically, what we are left with is a painting of total surrender in the moment, and in this case it is a surrender to love.KC: How do you choose or find your subjects?
TR: I try to find couples that are “in love with each other,” people who at least say they are. I turned to some friends and acquaintances, and some of them offered to model.KC: Do you just focus on heterosexual couples?
TR: Love comes in many forms. I don’t judge sexual orientation or want to exclude one group or another.KC: So how did this type of modeling differ from working with dancers? How were the challenges different?
TR: In my opinion, drawing almost anyone from life is an intimate experience. You have to really see them and they are aware that you see them. The dancers I work with are talented artists who are used to working with people and performing. They are used to being seen. With the couples in love, they have no special background in performing. Couples arrive with their passion for each other, and their bond is apparent. Like other models, there seems to be a mutual reverence between them, myself and for the activity we are partaking in, which comes from a long history of painting the human form.KC: In terms of process and practice, how does this subject matter differ from dancers? It would seem that, even with improvisation, dance could be choreographed. As an artist, you can maybe anticipate certain movements. Here, I would guess that it’s much harder to predict.
TR: I never predict and, like with all of the series, I can’t draw from memory because everything in the present moves much too fast to get caught in that kind of thinking. I draw from automatic response in the present as the movement unfolds. With the “Love” series, I have no idea what to expect.KC: How long does a session typically last?
TR: About three to four hours with breaks whenever they want.KC: Because of the subject matter, there is obviously an erotic component. What is the procedure in the studio? How do your subjects begin their interaction? What limits, if any, are placed on their intimate involvement?
TR: They arrive as a couple to model for a series of paintings related to love. I am the artist there to make those paintings of them. I try to provide a comfortable, reverent and safe environment for them to do whatever they want.KC: Is there a voyeuristic aspect to the work? How should the viewer get past that when viewing these paintings?
TR: I’m not sure if you mean my voyeurism or the viewers?KC: Both.
TR: I’m not sure if viewers will get past it or want to get past it. I am presenting paintings that are intimate. Klimt, Sheila, Bacon, Rodin, Picasso and countless other artists have made more sexually explicit works than I. Are they all voyeurs? Can you say which one is or isn’t? Voyeurism means that one derives sexual pleasure from watching others in the act of having sex. I am quite sure that the hemisphere of the brain engaged while having sex is different than the one engaged when making a painting. Much of society—including some of my most liberal minded friends—is very uncomfortable with sex and love, especially the idea of painting it. It’s taboo, and intimacy can make people very uncomfortable.KC: For all the challenges involved, do you have any inhibitions relating to this work? And, if you did, how did you go about getting past them?
TR: At first, making this series from life was a bit much for me—there are lots of things in life you would prefer not to see. The problem was that I couldn’t make the paintings any other way—such as with photographic aids—and I began more and more to want to see what the paintings themselves would look like. I am drawn to sculptural issues, the physics of the body and drawing from life is essential to really address them. This became the determining factor. When I have an idea that finally congeals, I have to address it or it begins to make me ill. These paintings seemed to bother people even before I began making them. This wasn’t something I anticipated. It seems silly to justify love, doesn’t it?KC: Has that been discouraging for you? Do you feel like people are completely missing the point?
TR: I never expect anything. Criticism is very important, and it has helped me evaluate my position in relation to these paintings and other things. In this case, it has encouraged me to continue to explore and articulate what I think is important, and that has broadened my worldview.KC: What moves you in observing two people engaged with each other physically, emotionally and spiritually?
TR: I find it amazingly complex—touchingly beautiful at times—and greatly challenging to paint. Observation is not for its own sake or for the sake of voyeurism; it creates a channel from and to what I paint and draw. Because I love to paint and draw people in their most human and divine moments, this subject seems appropriate.
