Posted on Sun, Aug. 12, 2012By Anne Tschida
Special to the Miami HeraldOn opposite ends of town, the shimmery fluid abstractions crafted by locally based Lynne Golob Gelfman combine to create a large survey of the work from of one of Miami’s most interesting – though sometimes overlooked – painters.
Gelfman’s compositions, which can be found in a number of museums across the country including here in Miami, are references to the never-static natural environment that surrounds us -- but not literally. Through repetitive markings and variations of one color scheme within each frame, the paintings seem to flow and shift, reminiscent of waves, clouds and sand, in perpetual states of change and formation.
So the titles of the two exhibits up for the summer are more than appropriate: scapes at the Frost Museum of Art at FIU, and sand at the Alejandra von Hartz Gallery in Wynwood.
Because of the subtlety to these compositions, the slightest change in light or in viewing positioning can transform the dynamic of the whole piece, which becomes clear when visiting the FIU show, spread through two rooms on the top floor. This location allows for natural light to shine in from a roof sky-light during the day, especially in the second room where several large paintings that first appear sandy- and dusty-colored hang. But move in closer, step from side to side, and the metallic material that Gelfman has applied to these works make them glimmer and gain a luminescence that at first, from a distance, is imperceptible.
That gets to the essence of why Gelfman’s paintings are so seductive and engaging: they are about movement, color, patterning and illusion more than studies in representational landscapes. Unfortunately, artificial light is not as generous in allowing some of this detail to shine through, so it’s great that some of these works get that exposure.
The most recent works -- found in the dune series at the Frost -- are based on Gelfman’s trip through one of the most fascinating ecological and geological outposts in the world, the Lençois Maranhenses in northeastern Brazil. Covered in undulating, white sand dunes that are interrupted by turquoise lakes, there is virtually no vegetation in this strange amalgam of desert and water. The vistas are endless and -- thanks to natural forces such as wind -- the sand is always shifting; like them, the paintings leave the impression that they go on forever and simply won’t stand still. To underscore this idea of limitlessness, in many paintings Gelfman lets the paint drip over to the sides, a signature mark of hers.
Other works flow in a less horizontal movement and suggest aerial views of a landscape, a metropolis, or ruins. Such is the case in the first room at FIU, where a number of paintings were inspired by a trip to North Africa, a parched land dotted with remnants of numerous ancient civilizations. These feel more like excavations than reflections.
Gelfman has also been influenced by a Japanese aesthetic, which is apparent in how her use of muted colors leaves a contemplative residue; and her extensive time spent in South America. (She lived in Bogota, Colombia for a time.) But the New York native, a Columbia University MFA graduate and long-time teacher who has made Miami home, seems to be most impressed over time with the nature directly around her, particularly the action of the tides, waves and sand that she observes daily with early morning walks along Biscayne Bay near Old Cutler Road.
Examples of this make up a part of the sand show at Von Hartz. These smaller works, in shades of greens, blues, purples and often in a grouping, are unmistakably references to these surroundings, although still planted in abstraction. The blues sparkle when passing by them, as the sea does when the sun hits lapping waves; while the greens might suggest the kinetic state of the shore-line sand as the waves constantly run over it and then retreat. As the sun’s light passes through clouds, bounces off waves, and glints off sand crystals, the motion never stops in this micro world.
As the artist explains, some of these works in groupings are frames that together tell a visual tale, whereas some of the larger-scale paintings are all-inclusive and stand alone. Both are represented. One especially intriguing series is comprised of two rows of small paintings, five in each, all in variations of white. As Miamians are well aware, hot mid-day heat can turn the world white – so called white-heat, washing out the subtle colors that can be observed at softer times, in early morning or twilight.
This series seems to detail that intense time of the day, when the sky, the water, the sand can fade to white. In the first couple of frames, some distinct color still emerges, until it almost all is erased by the last panel. “These are almost like drawings,” says Gelfman. “I like how the paint disappears into the surface,” becoming smooth and monotone.
Smooth in this case is literal. While nature, perspective and illusion make up part of the picture, Gelfman’s work is also about process. These compositions can appear so tactile – like tapestries at times – that viewers inevitably want to touch them. And because she does indeed sand her works and employ other techniques, she manipulates the surfaces of her paintings in such a way that when actually touching them (if you do, do it gingerly), they come as a surprise. Some are as soft as baby skin, others rough; at times her intense process has ripped the canvas. She uses acrylic, oil, sanding machines and unrevealed techniques to create her pieces.
Several years ago, in almost direct reference to the process of her work, Gelfman titled her shows in New York and at the Fredric Snitzer Gallery resist and react, emphasizing the push and pull of the imagery as well as the actual texture of the works.
Her patterning, in fact, can make the natural and man-made worlds overlap. At times the paintings can look more like woven textiles – or, conversely, vague images of a chain-link fence, the ultimate urban structure that unlike sand under waves, is immutable. As Gelfman says, “illusion is part of the work.”
On the back wall at the Von Hartz gallery, several very different works have been displayed. Called discs, they are circular molds on paper of a sanding-machine wheel, which Gelfman has used throughout the years. But they are also portals into the process of creation: the abrasive power of a sander helped form her imagery, while the abrasive power of nature helped form our environment.
While gentle and meditative on one level, the deeper one probes Gelfman’s work, the more complex it becomes -- waves, dunes and clouds are awe-inspiring, but both because of their beauty and their potency. Gelfman would have us explore it all.
