Mateo López: Undo List

THE D R AWI N G CENTER

130

Mateo Lรณpez Undo List

The Drawing Center January 20 – March 19, 2017 Main Gallery

Mateo Lรณpez Undo List

Organized by Claire Gilman

D R AW I N G PA P E R S 13 0

Essays by Claire Gilman and Niko Vicario Photography by Martin Parsekian

Introduction

Claire Gilman

I first met Mateo López five years ago when I was in Bogotá preparing for an exhibition of another much-lauded practitioner of Colombian drawing, Medellín-based draftsman José Antonio Suárez Londoño.

Whereas Londoño’s intimate, diaristic drawings are characterized by an acute sensitivity to line, color, and texture, the younger López, like many of his peers, adopts a more conceptual approach often beginning with a verbal directive (for example, the phrase “on the tip of my tongue”) which he then executes in material form. His gesture is streamlined, even efficient, in his drawings of spare, recognizable motifs as well as in his rudimentary, three-dimensional geometric constructions. He shares with Londoño, however, an interest in craft that he attributes to a Colombian artistic tradition privileging the intimate and the handmade over monumental display.

According to López, in a country that has struggled to adapt to the industrialized world there has arisen “an ability to take things as they are available and to make use of the materials at hand.”1 In his work, this translates to an interest in the propositional nature of existence and drawing’s role as a method of articulation. Drawing is more than an artistic medium for López; it is a way of conceiving and inhabiting the world. In his words, just as every manufactured object began as a drawing or rendering (“a building was a drawing at some point, that aircraft I hear crossing the sky, the plan of this city”), so too must we understand that “an image is not flat; it is an atmosphere, it contains time and space.”2 Trained as an architect and technical draftsman before entering art school, López had an artistic breakthrough in 2006 at his solo 1 2

7

Mateo López, conversation with the author, November 3, 2016.

López, email exchange with the author, May 26, 2012.

exhibition at Casas Riegner in Bogotá when he relocated his studio to the gallery and painstakingly reconstructed the tools of his craft for gallery visitors. Two-dimensional drawings of two-dimensional objects (for instance, near exact replicas of lined sheets of paper) joined three-dimensional drawings of three-dimensional objects made by sketching and folding to create trompe l’oeil paper sculptures (e.g., a box holding a bottle of black ink fashioned from cardboard and embellished with the same ink that the original box contained). Since then, López has continued to explore drawing as a way to construct and deconstruct everyday objects and situations, often integrating fictive two-dimensional renditions with actual found objects that have personal associations or that reference the artist’s political and social heritage. The 2011 exhibition Nowhere Man at the Drawing Room in London showcased an anonymous artist’s workroom complete with evidence of the protagonist’s earlier projects, while A Room Inside a Room at Casey Kaplan gallery in New York in 2015 juxtaposed objects made and used in Bogotá with similar constructions sourced in the artist’s new home base of New York City.

Part and parcel of any reconstructive project, however, is the inevitable failure that accompanies it, a dynamic that López has started grappling with head on. If López has consistently exploited precise control in rendering the imagination visible, he has recently begun to confront the ideality of the drawn line with the physical resistance of its material presentation. In Undo List, this results in both a broader and more intimate scope. Gone is the mise-en-abyme of the studiocum-exhibition space; in its place is a multidisciplinary installation that features works on paper, sculpture, performance, and projected film all set within a network of schematic interlocking rooms. The anonymous architectural setting immediately marks the exhibition space as a place—not a specific place like the artist’s studio, although the artist’s presence is residually felt throughout, but a place as such where ideas are posed and encountered. Hence the inclusion of two films projected on the walls each featuring close-up shots of hands manipulating simple objects and drawing tools, many of which are on view in one form or another elsewhere in the exhibition.

Hence, too, the participation of choreographer and dancer Lee Serle whose hands and masked face appear in the film and who, at set

8

times during the run of the show, physically accompanies the films with responses to the gestures invoked therein and by occasionally rearranging the objects on view.

What exactly does this activation entail? In the films, as objects are submitted to mind-numbing repetitions (the monotonous folding and refolding of a notebook page, the endless rearranging of sheets of colored paper), we seem to witness both an anxiety for control and the fragility of the medium used to achieve it. This duality is reinforced by the juxtaposition between the animated filmic gestures and their static equivalents within the rooms: a stack of graphite-covered paper with which López awkwardly attempts to form a trompe l’oeil parallelogram lies on a table in an inert albeit suggestive pile; a bent ruler that, in the film, folds and unfolds in a kind of mechanistic ballet sits ungracefully suspended and immobile. Works like these are joined by poetic testaments to creative dialogue and its dissembling (e.g., a shredded conversation about drawing between López and South African artist William Kentridge spilling out of a dustpan on the floor) as well as the recycled remnants of failed endeavors (e.g., a paper spine composed from the collaged notes for previous aborted projects).

What remains consistent throughout is a sustained effort at communication, however stalled or upended it might be. This ceaseless impulse—beautifully conveyed by a close-up shot in the film of Serle’s hands making unreadable gestures—is the fundamental province of drawing. As López observes: “To draw is to walk and go back, to get entangled in movement, to have meetings, to go from one place to another without rest in a straight line and not get held up on the road, to contemplate one’s surroundings and continue drawing.”3 It is this expanded model of drawing and, implicit in it, this awareness that creativity implies both a doing and undoing, that Undo List makes visible.

I would like to thank Mateo for his intelligence, good will, and enthusiasm at every stage of this project. It has been a pleasure to get to know Mateo and to see his work develop over the past several 3

9

López in Interrogating Systems: 2008 CIFO Grants and Commissions Exhibition (Miami: CIFO Art Space, 2008), n.pag.

years. Above all, it has been a privilege to observe what drawing can do and be through his eyes.

This show would not have been possible without the support of a few key individuals. Catalina Casas of Casas Riegner, Bree Jeppson of The Rolex Institute, Loring Randolph of Casey Kaplan gallery, Alison Buchbinder of Polskin Arts, and Ana Sokoloff of Sokoloff + Associates each provided indispensable support and assistance at every step of the way. Special thanks are also due to Laura González of Sokoloff + Associates and Nathan Bennett and Veronica Levitt of Casey Kaplan gallery. Finally, I would like to thank Niko Vicario for his astute catalogue essay and Lee Serle for his profound choreographic response to Mateo’s work.

The Drawing Center’s hardworking staff deserves recognition for its role in realizing this exhibition. Special thanks go to Brett Littman, Executive Director; Joanna Ahlberg, Managing Editor; Peter J. Ahlberg, AHL&CO; Noah Chasin, Executive Editor; DéLana Dameron-John, Development Director; Alice Stryker, former Development Director; Dan Gillespie, Operations Manager; Molly Gross, Communications Director; and Olga Valle Tetkowski, Exhibition Manager. I would above all like to thank Nova Benway, Assistant Curator, for managing the logistics of this exhibition with great finesse.

Finally, I am incredibly appreciative of the steadfast support of The Drawing Center’s Board of Trustees and of the exhibition funders who have supported this show and its accompanying catalogue: the Rolex Institute, Estrellita Brodsky, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Colombia, Ana Sokoloff, and Ann and Marshall Webb, as well as Travesía Cuatro, Giorgio Griffa and Casey Kaplan gallery, Galeria Luisa Strina, and Casas Riegner, without whom this exhibition would not have been possible.

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The Making of Mateo Lรณpez

Niko Vicario

Mateo López arrived in New York from Bogotá with a small box of tools. Inside were pencils, a compass, binder clips, a glue stick, a few rubber bands, a plastic container of pins, and an impressive pair of scissors, among other things. This collection enabled him to compress his studio from the size of a room to the size of a shoebox, rendering it mobile. The way in which portability binds together disparate localities via objects has been key to many of López’s investigations up to this time, as when he reconstructed his Bogotá studio at the Casas Riegner gallery. In another project, López shrank the space to a manageable cargo, attaching it to the back of a motorcycle that he rode around Colombia.

The role of the portable studio in López’s practice proves analogous, anticipatory, and at times responsive to the ways in which his author function is geoculturally recoded when he and his work cross borders. As López notes, his rising status as a “Colombian artist” has been contemporaneous with his recent move to New York, as well as with the increasing visibility of his work on an international stage.1 What’s more, the artist’s career has developed in tandem with the current Latin American art boom, during which

1

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Mateo López, conversation with the author, Brooklyn, New York, October 9, 2016.

That López becomes “Colombian” when living and working outside of Colombia is simultaneously ironic and perfectly in keeping with the logic of the art world.

However, what “Colombian artist” might mean today is a topic of debate, cleaving between artists deemed ethically responsible in their projection of violence and repression in Colombia to the international art world on the one hand and a growing tendency among a younger generation of artists (including López) to work within a language of nonobjective form less legibly linked to the politics of “home.” For a recent overview of this insurmountable antinomy, see Carlos Motta’s contribution to “A Personal Latin America,” frieze.com, August 12, 2016, https://frieze.com/article/ personal-latin-america, accessed November 7, 2016.

museums, collectors, art historians, and the art market have anointed geometric abstraction as the aesthetic by which art from the region most successfully brokers itself.2 The work made between the 1940s and the 1970s by artists such as Tomás Maldonado in Argentina, Jesús Rafael Soto and Gego in Venezuela, and Lygia Clark and Hélio Oiticica in Brazil has recently garnered unprecedented attention, in turn reshaping the mold for a younger generation of artists from Latin America seeking international recognition.

These conditions and their circumnavigation are apparent in some of López’s works, particularly those engaged with geometric form.

There is also perhaps an alternative strain of Latin Americanism, one largely overlooked in the current trend, in the modesty and lyricism characterizing much of his practice.3 Even the narration of the artist arriving in New York with a small box of tools—propagated by the author—conforms to a tradition (both material and theoretical, both pragmatic and programmatic) of making do and of improvising with limited resources, while making of those limitations an inverted horizon of possibility outside of the totalizing schema of industrial modernity’s technocratic thrust.

His productions recall something of Lygia Clark’s replicable and recombinant modularity, informed by a similar sense that each object should be experienced as an iteration within an ongoing process of research residing somewhere between the geometric prototype and a world outside the studio, the gallery, and the museum—a 2

3

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For more on cultural brokering, see Mari Carmen Ramírez, “Brokering Identities: Art Curators and the Politics of Cultural Representation,” in Reesa Greenberg, Bruce W. Ferguson, and Sandy Naime, eds., Thinking about Exhibitions (London; New York: Routledge, 1996), 21–38. For an updated approach to these themes addressing the rise of geometric abstraction in the discourse on Latin American art, see Kaira M. Cabañas, “If the Grid Is the New Palm Tree of Latin American Art,” Oxford Art Journal 33 (3): 365–83. For a recent examination of the problematic category of Latin American art, see José Luis Falconi, “No Me Token; or, How to Make Sure We Never Lose the * Completely,” Guggenheim UBS Map, October 30, 2013, https://www. guggenheim.org/blogs/map/no-me-token-or-how-to-make-sure-we-never-lose-thecompletely, accessed November 7, 2016.

As López explains in one interview: “I’m like a mix of different narratives from Latin American culture: its art, its literature, its cinema, its music.” López, interviewed by Hans Ulrich Obrist (2010/2015), in Hans Ulrich Obrist, Conversations in Colombia (Bogotá: La Oficina del Doctor, 2015), 187.

world where such test cases might be rescaled and repurposed.4 This philosophy of the object, and of making more generally, also echoes the Bauhaus exercises that López cites as a reference point.5 This particular genealogy ties his practice both to the mythos of European modernism and its universalist aspirations, as well as to the ways in which these concepts were reconceived and repurposed diversely by a range of artists across Latin America (including Clark) and in López’s adopted home of New York, by artists such as Eva Hesse.

Notably, López expresses fatigue with an enduring narrative—in contemporary art, in art historical scholarship, and in other academic fields—of modernism’s failure in Latin America. The utopian dream, coded via geometric abstraction, either failed to transplant organically, or, alternatively, revealed its hollowness when confronted with local political and economic conditions that it failed to transform.

López’s work formulates a return to the seedlings of modernism’s proposals—what we might call their embryonic plasticity and their potential for intercultural portability. They are humble propositions in the forms of objects and situations—open and contingent.

When I met with López at his studio, a typical conversion from a site of industry to a site of artmaking in Brooklyn’s Bushwick neighborhood, he was quick to note the particularities of making work in New York compared to doing so in Bogotá. For instance, he notes the streamlined protocols of contracting New York fabricators with whom he collaborates in producing furniture and displays for the presentations of his drawings and objects, compared to the artisanal, highly specialized contributions of his earlier partners in Bogotá.6 Indeed, he is attuned to the cultural differences that might inform the way in which works of art are produced as well as the particular materials and techniques to which one has access in a given place— an unevenness that gestures to the persistent asymmetries of our ostensibly “global” present.

4

5 6

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See amongst others Cornelia Butler and Luis Pérez-Oramas, Lygia Clark: The Abandonment of Art, 1948–1988 (New York: Museum of Modern Art, 2014).

López, conversation with the author.

Ibid.

In light of López’s attention to the varied conditions for producing art, we might ask how these framings (in addition to the framing of López as “Colombian” and/or “Latin American”) square with the most constant drive in his polymorphous practice—the art of drawing. But what is the status of drawing today when in the field of architecture, in which López briefly trained, the practice has been largely replaced by digital rendering, in turn rearranging and redefining the relationship between the body, the hand, ideation, materialization, and space? In the field of art, drawing must compete with a variety of other formats, media, and technologies that telegraph the present with far fewer interpretive leaps. In other words, how might the well-worn practice of drawing adapt to the twenty-first century?

For López, drawing is both a starting and an ending point, though it frequently comes in contact with sculptural objects, display furniture, the space of the gallery, and the artist’s own performing hand at various stages of its visibility. Of course, drawing bears a deep historical relationship to plans, models, and their realization, a relationship that sharpens the connection between drawing and the other forms art might take, in which the two-dimensional rendering becomes the three-dimensional worlds we occupy. Drawing might function as a hinge between the immaterial and the material as well as between the virtual and the spatial. This interstice cleaves open new depths in the present, characterized by social media, data centers, and surveillance, to name a few components of a public sphere redefined by the Internet in which the rhetoric of dematerialization blinds us to the enduring thingness of things. Within this reformatted relationship between objects, space, and experience, the art exhibition and its phenomenological unfolding become charged by their anomalous relationship to the majority of modes through which visual experience, object experience, and interpersonal interaction currently take “place.”

It is at this nexus that we might locate some early glimpses of the works for The Drawing Center, where López brings together drawing, sculpture, and the luminescence of screens within a scenography of rooms. In one object encountered at the studio, graphite oscillates between means to an end (inscription/depiction) and emergence as

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the mineral it is, revealed through over-application to a surface so that matter accumulates, hovering both on and above things. López has seemed wary, even technophobic, in earlier conversations about the relationship between drawing and computer technologies.7 However, his time in New York has been characterized by a more fluid and playful approach to technological transformation and remediation, apparent in his expanding incorporation of video and animation and in beginning to think through the uses of 3-D printing as a process with which to experiment.8 We must think between media to understand the particular function of making and seeing in this moment.

And so we end where we began—with a box of tools.

7 8

33

López, interviewed by Hans Ulrich Obrist, 178.

López, conversation with the author.

PLS . 1, 2

Spatial Construction No. 29 (Bed Slats), 2016

PLS . 3, 4

Period Rooms, 2013

PL . 5

Flexn (Beam), 2017

PL . 6

Bed Slats (Vertical), 2016

PL . 7

Four Seasons (From left: Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter), 2015

PL . 8

Snooze, 2016

PL . 9

Si, no, si, no, si (Tumulo) [Yes, no, yes, no, yes (Mound)], 2016

PL . 10

10:10, 2016

PL . 11

Head to Arm and Back, 2016

PL . 12

Inventory, 2016

PL . 13

Draftsman’s Chair, 2015

PL . 14

Lapse, 2016

PL . 15

Plan for Cement Tile (Mesh), 2016

PL . 16

Stretch, 2016

PL . 17

Xué, 2016

PL . 18

Efecto dominรณ [Domino Effect], 2016

PL . 19

Cuentas [Necklace], 2016

PL . 20

Antonym (Model B3 Chair), 2016

PL . 21

Fosforitos [Matches], 2016

PL . 22

Sobremesa, 2016

PL . 23

Serpentine, 2016

PL . 24

A-B, B-C, C-A, A-D, B-D, C-D (Tetrahedron), 2015

PL . 25

Knot (After Bruce Nauman), 2016

PL . 26

Bolillos [Batons], 2017

PL . 27

Disclose, 2016

PL . 28

Twins, 2016

PL . 29

Vertebrae, 2015

PL . 30

Infra-mince [Infra-thin], 2016

PL . 31

Circling the Table, 2016

PL . 32

Visual Score (Small Worlds after W. Kandinsky), 2017

PL . 33

Craps, 2016

PLS . 34, 35

Celestial Pole, 2015

PL . 36

Look Back, Move Forward, 2016

PL . 37

Lee’s Accumulations (After Trisha Brown), 2016

PL . 38

Apple, 2015; Helix, 2016; PliĂŠ (Folding Ruler), 2016; Table, 2016

PL . 39

Bird, 2017

PL . 40

Set, 2016

PL . 41

Spatial Construction No. 27, 2016

PL . 42

Allotment, 2015

PLS . 43–49

Stills from Time as Activity, 2016

L I S T O F P L AT E S

PL . 8

Snooze, 2016 All works courtesy of the artist and Casey

Paper

Kaplan, New York; Casas Riegner, Colombia;

3 1/4 x 2 1/2 x 2 inches (8.3 x 6.4 x 5 cm)

Luisa Strina, Brazil; and Travesía Cuatro, Mexico and Spain, unless otherwise noted.

PL . 9

Si, no, si, no, si (Tumulo) [Yes, no, yes, PLS . 1, 2

no, yes (Mound)], 2016

Spatial Construction No. 29 (Bed Slats), 2016

Watercolor and graphite on paper

White oak

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

45 x 45 x 38 inches (114 x 114 x 96.5 cm) PL . 10 PLS . 3, 4

10:10, 2016

Period Rooms, 2013

Ink on cut paper

Cut-out colored paper, cardboard, cloth

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

Dimensions variable Courtesy of the artist

PL . 11

Head to Arm and Back, 2016 PL . 5

Graphite and watercolor on cut paper

Flexn (Beam), 2017

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

Watercolor on paper 30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

PL . 12

Inventory, 2016 PL . 6

Ink and graphite on paper

Bed Slats (Vertical), 2016

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

Wood veneer and graphite on paper 30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

PL . 13

Draftsman’s Chair, 2015 PL . 7

White oak

Four Seasons (From left: Spring,

16 x 16 x 32 inches (40.6 x 40.6 x 81 cm)

Summer, Fall, Winter), 2015

Courtesy of the artist and Casey Kaplan,

Carpenter’s hammer, plant, wood,

New York

paper, marble balls, wood shelf 71 x 10 x 17 inches (180.3 x 25.4 x 43.2 cm)

PL . 14

Courtesy of the artist and Casey Kaplan,

Lapse, 2016

New York

Graphite on cut and assembled recycled paper 16 x 16 x 7 1/2 inches (40.6 x 40.6 x 19 cm)

102

PL . 15

PL . 22

Plan for Cement Tile (Mesh), 2016

Sobremesa, 2016

Graphite and red pencil on cut paper

Cut-up paper transcript of a conversation

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

about drawing between López and artist William Kentridge, dustpan, brush

PL . 16

Dimensions variable

Stretch, 2016 Graphite, gold leaf paper, and cut-out

PL . 23

colored paper on paper

Serpentine, 2016

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

Wood, graphite on paper 36 x 36 x 36 inches (91.4 x 91.4 x 91.4 cm)

PL . 17

Courtesy of the artist and Casey Kaplan,

Xué, 2016

New York

Plaster, gold leaf 9 x 6 1/2 x 4 inches (22.9 x 16.5 x 10.2 cm)

PL . 24

A-B, B-C, C-A, A-D, B-D, C-D (Tetrahedron), PL . 18

2015

Efecto dominó [Domino Effect], 2016

Wood, graphite

Watercolor and graphite on paper

7 1/2 x 8 1/2 x 7 1/2 inches (19 x 21.6 x 19 cm)

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

Courtesy of the artist and Casey Kaplan, New York

PL . 19

Cuentas [Necklace], 2016

PL . 25

Ink on paper

Knot (After Bruce Nauman), 2016

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

Ink and black string on paper 30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

PL . 20

Antonym (Model B3 Chair), 2016

PL . 26

Watercolor and ink on paper

Bolillos [Batons], 2017

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

Ink on paper 30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

PL . 21

Fosforitos [Matches], 2016

PL . 27

Watercolor on paper

Disclose, 2016

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

Ink, watercolor, graphite, and red pencil on paper 30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

103

PL . 28

PLS . 34, 35

Twins, 2016

Celestial Pole, 2015

Ink on paper

Paper, metal, marble, compass

2 x 4 1/4 inches (5 x 10.8 cm)

98 x 19 1/4 x 21 inches (248.9 x 48.9 x 53.3 cm) Courtesy of the artist and Casey Kaplan,

PL . 29

New York

Vertebrae, 2015 Recycled note paper, wire, string, nail

PL . 36

25 x 3 x 8 inches (63.5 x 7.6 x 20.3 cm)

Look Back, Move Forward, 2016

Collection of Clarice Oliveira Tavares,

Graphite and red pencil on cut paper

New York

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

PL . 30

PL . 37

Infra-mince [Infra-thin], 2016

Lee’s Accumulations (After Trisha Brown), 2016

Ink and red pencil on paper

Ink and red pencil on paper

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

PL . 31

PL . 38

Circling the Table, 2016

Apple, 2015

Ink on paper

Paper, ink, apple seeds and stem

30 x 22 7/8 inches (76 x 58 cm)

3 1/4 x 3 1/4 x 3 inches (8.3 x 8.3 x 7.6 cm) Courtesy of the artist

PL . 32

Visual Score (Small Worlds after

Helix, 2016

W. Kandinsky), 2017

Concrete cast, paper, ink

Graphite, red pencil, and cut and

7 x 7 inches (17.8 x 17.8 cm)

recycled paper on notebook, white shelf 9 x 12 inches (22.9 x 30.5 cm)

PliĂŠ (Folding Ruler), 2016 Found ruler

PL . 33

Dimensions variable

Craps, 2016 Paper

Table, 2016

Dimensions variable

Red pencil on paper mounted on board, metal table 78 1/2 x 33 x 33 inches (199 x 83.8 x 83.8 cm)

104

PL . 39

Bird, 2017 Laser-cut mat board 4 x 2 x 1 3/4 inches (10.2 x 5.1 x 4.4 cm) PL . 40

Set, 2016 Red pencil on cast concrete, coins 6 1/2 x 3 x 3 1/2 inches (16.5 x 7.6 x 8.9 cm) PL . 41

Spatial Construction No. 27, 2016 Ten wood pieces (recycled white oak, ash, walnut, mahogany, cherry) Dimensions variable PL . 42

Allotment, 2015 Slate, chalk Dimensions variable PLS . 43–49

Time as Activity, 2016 Two-channel video projection 54 minutes

105

CONTRIBUTORS

Claire Gilman is Senior Curator at The Drawing Center.

Niko Vicario is Assistant Professor of Art and the History of Art at Amherst College. He holds a PhD in the History, Theory and Criticism of Art from MIT and an MA in Curatorial Studies from Bard College.

BOARD OF DIRECTORS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Co-Chairs

Mateo López: Undo List is made possible by the

Rhiannon Kubicka

support of the Rolex Institute, Estrellita Brodsky,

Jane Dresner Sadaka

Ana Sokoloff, and Ann and Marshall Webb.

Additional support is provided by the Embassy

Frances Beatty Adler

of Colombia in the United States through the

Dita Amory

Promotion Plan of Colombia Abroad of the

Brad Cloepfil

Ministry of Foreign Affairs of Colombia.

Anita F. Contini Andrea Crane

Special thanks to: Travesía Cuatro; Giorgio Griffa

Stacey Goergen

and Casey Kaplan, New York; Galeria Luisa

Amy Gold

Strina; and Casas Riegner.

Steven Holl Iris Z. Marden

The Drawing Center gives special recognition to

Galia Meiri-Stawski

the Rolex Institute for helping to support Mateo

Nancy Poses

López’s Undo List exhibition. The Rolex Mentor

Eric Rudin

and Protégé Arts Initiative is aimed at ensuring

David Salle

that the world’s artistic heritage is passed on from

Joyce Siegel

generation to generation and across continents

Barbara Toll

and cultures. The Rolex Mentor and Protégé Arts

Waqas Wajahat

Initiative helps rising young artists achieve their

Isabel Stainow Wilcox

full potential by pairing them with great masters

Candace Worth

for a year of intense one-to-one collaboration.

Since 2002, Rolex has brought together a total of

Emeritus

50 mentor and protégé pairs in the fields of archi-

Michael Lynne

tecture, dance, film, literature, music, theatre and

George Negroponte

visual arts to participate in this unique creative

Elizabeth Rohatyn

exchange. In the 2012–2013 series of the philan-

Jeanne C. Thayer

thropic program, Colombian artist Mateo López worked with acclaimed South African visual artist

Executive Director

William Kentridge, who helped him expand the

Brett Littman

scope of his innovative drawings and installations.

D irector ’ s C ouncil

C atalogue S ponsor

Frances Beatty Adler and Allen Adler

George Ahl

Devon Dikeou and Fernando Troya

Maryann Dresner

Steven Holl

Libby and Adrian Ellis

Rhiannon Kubicka and

Stephen Figge

Jane and Michael Horvitz

Mr. Theo Blackston

Constance and H. Roemer McPhee

Patrick Kissane

Judith Levinson Oppenheimer and

Nicole Klagsbrun

Nancy Olnick and Giorgio Spanu

John Oppenheimer

Nancy and Fred Poses

Thea Westreich Wagner and

Fiona and Eric Rudin

Ethan Wagner

Jane Dresner Sadaka and Ned Sadaka

Karen Zukowski and David Diamond

Lisa Silver and Jean-Christophe Castelli Galia Meiri-Stawski and Axel Stawski

E ducation B enefactor

Barbara Toll

Jeffrey Beck

Isabel Stainow Wilcox

Annie Elliott and John Williams Elliott Mia Enell and Nicolas Fries

C urator ’ s C ircle

Francis Greenburger

Richard and Kathy Fuld

Yinky and Chips Moore

Jack Rudin

Nancy Reinish K. Brad Van Woert III

A rtist ’ s Patron

Mark Waskow and Susan Higby

Anne H. Bass and Julian Lethbridge Alessandra Carnielli

P rogram U nderwriter

Mickey Cartin

John Antrobus

Emy and Jacques Cohenca

Diana Balmori

Joan K. Davidson

Thomas Buser

Beth Rudin DeWoody

Romy Cohen

Jane and Peter Ezersky

Fran Deitrich and Peter Capolino

Anna Getty and Scott Osler

Zoe and Joel Dictrow

Bill Judson

Danielle Dimston

Pierre Lagrange

Elisabeth Eberle

Diane Nixon

Heide Fasnacht

Scott Rofey

Mary and Lawrence Freedman

Barbara Toll

Shelly and Vincent Fremont

Claire Weisz

Denis Gardarin Carole and Jan Glowacki Kate Gubelmann George Held

Glenda Hibler

Alison Hildreth

Steve Hogden

Frederic Jaffee

Stephen Kaye

Rainer Keller

Zoe Keramea and James Young

Markus Kiersztan

Amy Lee Ketchum

Carla Klevan

Katy Lederer

Robin Kyle

John Melick

Margaret and Daniel Loeb

Mireille Mosler

Rod Morton

Susan Palamara

Alexandria Pang

Lauren Pollock

Paul Pearson

Marion Preston

Virginia and Jean Perrette

Angelica and Neil Rudenstine

Michael Putnam

Suzanne Salzinger

Anthony Russell

Robert Schechter

Bob Ryder

Daniel Schillberg

Roger Schickedantz

Susan Shoemaker and Richard Tobias

Mark Sheinkman

Susan and Charles Tribbitt

Drew Shiflett

Nancy Judge and David Wood

Laura Skoler Judith and Phillip Vander Weg

G aller y S upporter

Luca Veggetti

Renate Aller

Martin Wilner

Kenseth Armstead

Ryan Withall

Mary Arouni

Henry V. Zimet

Nancy and Ronald Berman Olivia Bernard Margaret and Willard Boepple Tanya Chaly Laura Cosgrave Gregory Darms James Dart Gregory Drozdek Charles Fears Gwen and David Feher Margot Finkel John Forgach Saskia Friedrich Jill Fruchter Crista Grauer Jack Hazerjian

A nnual F und

Francoise Grossen

Katie Adams Schaeffer

Linda and Hans Haacke

Elizabeth Albert

Susan Harris

Noriko Ambe

Jack Hazerjian

Dita Amory and Graham Nickson

Allison and W. Keyes Hill-Edgar

Melissa L. Kretschmer and Carl Andre

Ken Hudes

Judy and John Angelo

Nina Katchadourian

Naomi Antonakos

David G. Keeton

Jeffrey Beck

Rebecca and Gilbert Kerlin

Olivia Bernard

Eylene and Donald King

Brian Brady

Patrick Kissane

Mina Takahashi and Marco Breuer

Cynthia Knox and Carla Rae Johnson

Laurene Krasny Brown

Andrew Kohler

Constance Caplan

Sally and Werner H. Kramarsky

Prudence Carlson

Jill and Peter Kraus

Vija Celmins

Duff and John Lambros

Catalina Marta Chervin

John Laughlin

Henry and Joan Spaulding Cobb

Raymond Learsy

Wendy and David Coggins

Scott Lifshutz

Elizabeth Currie

Nancy Linden

Rachel Feinstein and John Currin

Patricia Lyell and Robert Gilston

Hester Diamond

Jordana Martin

Devon Dikeou and Fernando Troya

Billy Martin

Susan and Thomas Dunn

Constance and H. Roemer McPhee

John Tyler Evans

Linn Meyers

Gwen and David Feher

Marion Miller

Ruth Fields and Gerald McCue

Carolina Nitsch

Carol Flueckiger

Heidi and Peter Nitze

Maxine and Stuart Frankel

Mary Obering

Shelly and Vincent Fremont

Tristan Perich

Hugh Freund

Sandra Perlow

Ellen and Norman Galinsky

Olivia Petrides

Stacey and Rob Goergen

Jody Pinto

Laurel Gonsalves

Jessie and Charles Price

Nancy and Stuart Goode

David Ray

Susan M. Gosin and Richard Barrett

Barry Redlich

Kathryn and Mark Green

Janelle Reiring

Constance Grey

Jane L. Richards

Elissa and Great Neck Richman Steve Roden Ed Ruscha Anthony Russell Mary Sabbatino Suzanne Salzinger Louisa Stude Sarofim Joyce Pomeroy Schwartz Robert Seng Gil Shiva Dominique Singer and Joan Greenfield Alfred Steiner Calvin Towle Thomas Trudeau Jane and Garry Trudeau Lily Tuck Candace King Weir Kara and Steven Wise

E D WA R D H A L L A M T U C K P U B L I C AT I O N P R O G R A M

This is number 130 of the Drawing Papers, a series of publications documenting The Drawing Center’s exhibitions and public programs and providing a forum for the study of drawing.

Noah Chasin Executive Editor Joanna Ahlberg Managing Editor Designed by AHL&CO This book is set in Adobe Garamond Pro and Berthold Akzidenz Grotesk.

It was printed by Puritan Capital in Hollis, New Hampshire.

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THE D R AWI N G CENTER

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Essays by Claire Gilman and Niko Vicario

D R AW I N G PA P E R S 1 3 0

$20.00 US

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