Mathew Pokoik - news

Martin Puryear, Blue Blood, polychromed pine and red cedar, 66″diameter, 1979.

Today I went to see the MOMA retrospective on the sculptor Martin Puryear. I’ve met Martin twice, he’s a friend of a friend, and while I was not familiar with his work when I first met him, he immediately seemed like a person with something to offer. It might have been how he walks, or talks, a presence and gentle intelligence I immediately noticed. These traits were clear and strong in his work, a gentle slow love of his craft, a master of his materials. While his work has strong abstract qualities, subtle references permeate throughout, such as folk traditions of basking weaving, wooden duck decoys, historical references within titles that would open up possible meanings and pathways, all by way of simple suggestion rather than forced connections. At times I wanted to crawl inside, feel, handle, physically interact with his works (there are Do Not Touch signs everywhere). I’ve rarely experienced sculptures where the smell of wood brought me into my body and memory and physicality. I felt a gentle joy, shed a few tears, and laughed out-loud, at his child-like playfulness.

Martin Puryear, Old Mole, Red Cedar, 1985

At a time when so many sculptors no longer produce their own work, his craftsmanship is remarkable, yet he still has a healthy conceptual basis. Ideas of internal/external, minimal forms, folk-art and high-art convergence, historical allusions, all have a home in these sculptures.

Martin Puryear, CFAO, Painted and unpainted pine and found wheelbarrow, 2006-7

Also worth noting, this was the first time I’ve seen the new MOMA Atrium used well. Generally the space overshadows everything they’ve installed, a few of Puryear’s works had a scale, height, and ambition that made perfect use of this vast space. MOMA has an excellent website for the show complete with photos of the Atrium installation in case you’re out of town. However to really feel the full presence of these works, go see, don’t touch, and smell these gentle, fierce, and complex works.

Martin Puryear, Ladder for Booker T. Washington, 36′ long, 1996.