Lot Essay
Kelpie is a powerful and mystical example of Susan Rothenberg's most celebrated series of paintings, the horses. The horse image entered her work in 1974, when it emerged from her expressionistic doodling on a small canvas. Although she committed herself almost immediately to explore the potential of the image, "she had a sense she was putting herself 'right out of the ballpark in terms of the New York art scene'" (J. Simon, op. cit., p. 27). Quite the contrary, however, since her first exhibition of the horse paintings two years later brought her widespread praise.
Rothenberg has faced endless questions regarding why the horse became her dominant subject for several years. Her answers have varied widely.
'The horse was a vehicle for me, I think, in the same way Jasper Johns had to use his imagery,' Rothenberg recalls. 'I think it was a surrogate for dealing with a human being, but at the same time it was neutral enough and I had no emotional relationship to horses, so it really was a powerful object that divided asymmetrically but seemed to present a solid symmetrical presence. I needed something alive, I guess. I couldn't use an object. I'm not a still life painter. The horse was just a quiet image. I was able to stick to the philosophy of the day--keeping the painting flat and anti-illusionistic--but I also got to use this big, soft, heavy, strong, powerful form' (ibid, p. 29).
One of her best answers to the question was one of the simplest:
'Well I can't picture these paintings as giraffes.' In the next breath, she complicates that response in a very telling way: 'I don't think it could have been an inanimate object either. I like tension. To take something that had implied motion and not use it in that way; to have something that was volumetric and to not use it in that way--there is a certain perversity in the way I use imagery. I don't know if that's the right word, but I have to take something and redigest it and reinterpret it for me to get hooked on it--to get into it' (ibid, p. 47).
The horse image of Kelpie is a richly impastoed black animal in full motion seen in profile. Rothenberg integrated the horse into the field of the canvas as well as separated its image from the field by a white outline. A dark figure seems to cast a white shadow, or perhaps, the horse emits some nearly electric force. Its motion is both emphasized and contained by an irregular ovoid, created by a thick line that bursts beyond the canvas limits at top and bottom. Joan Simon observed:
The horse now seems cushioned, protected in this new kind of space--womblike seems an appropriate description if not an interpretation (one that Rothenberg herself does not see and argues with strongly). For Rothenberg, the significance is the very finding of a new formal device itself, the thickened line, which she describes as neither line nor shape but rather a 'band,' and which would generate an entire series of paintings two years later (ibid, pp. 62-63).
Ultimately, the generic quality of the horse image together with the extraordinary richness of Rothenberg's painterly surfaces raise the image far beyond any association with a domesticated animal in the direction of a ritualistic, totemic or mythic creature.
Rothenberg has faced endless questions regarding why the horse became her dominant subject for several years. Her answers have varied widely.
'The horse was a vehicle for me, I think, in the same way Jasper Johns had to use his imagery,' Rothenberg recalls. 'I think it was a surrogate for dealing with a human being, but at the same time it was neutral enough and I had no emotional relationship to horses, so it really was a powerful object that divided asymmetrically but seemed to present a solid symmetrical presence. I needed something alive, I guess. I couldn't use an object. I'm not a still life painter. The horse was just a quiet image. I was able to stick to the philosophy of the day--keeping the painting flat and anti-illusionistic--but I also got to use this big, soft, heavy, strong, powerful form' (ibid, p. 29).
One of her best answers to the question was one of the simplest:
'Well I can't picture these paintings as giraffes.' In the next breath, she complicates that response in a very telling way: 'I don't think it could have been an inanimate object either. I like tension. To take something that had implied motion and not use it in that way; to have something that was volumetric and to not use it in that way--there is a certain perversity in the way I use imagery. I don't know if that's the right word, but I have to take something and redigest it and reinterpret it for me to get hooked on it--to get into it' (ibid, p. 47).
The horse image of Kelpie is a richly impastoed black animal in full motion seen in profile. Rothenberg integrated the horse into the field of the canvas as well as separated its image from the field by a white outline. A dark figure seems to cast a white shadow, or perhaps, the horse emits some nearly electric force. Its motion is both emphasized and contained by an irregular ovoid, created by a thick line that bursts beyond the canvas limits at top and bottom. Joan Simon observed:
The horse now seems cushioned, protected in this new kind of space--womblike seems an appropriate description if not an interpretation (one that Rothenberg herself does not see and argues with strongly). For Rothenberg, the significance is the very finding of a new formal device itself, the thickened line, which she describes as neither line nor shape but rather a 'band,' and which would generate an entire series of paintings two years later (ibid, pp. 62-63).
Ultimately, the generic quality of the horse image together with the extraordinary richness of Rothenberg's painterly surfaces raise the image far beyond any association with a domesticated animal in the direction of a ritualistic, totemic or mythic creature.