Ode to Ellsworth Kelly

I reflected on Ellsworth Kelly on his recent passing at age 92.  I had never liked him, I found him incredibly boring.  "Why do museums devote so much space to someone so boring?" I'd gripe aloud.

 A giant bronze sculpture of his work in the National Gallery's sculpture garden particularly incensed me.  "I don't get why you would reproduce a shaped color painting in bronze.  What is the point? There is no color and the shape is not that interesting."

I'd gripe away, not that anyone cared or bothered to listen to me. But it was my opinion, and I was entitled to it.

Then one day I read an article about him in the New York Times. I don't know why I read it, I probably flipped past it first.  But it was interesting and made me appreciate him as a man and as an artist.


http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/22/arts/design/ellsworth-kelly-explorer-of-shape-line-and-color.html

For starters, he doesn't use assistants for his painting. He has a strong clear vision that he has persisted in following; keeping notes and sketches that he revisits for inspiration, but never repeating himself.  He has ridden popularity up and down, plugging away in his upstate New York studio. He has had a successful life doing what he loves.

I softened on him.  Oh Ellsworth Kelly, I have been so harsh and judgmental.  You can keep that wall space, far worse art crimes have been committed.

And then in December, on possibly the day that he died, I was walking through the High museum in Atlanta.  Short on time. I peered into a room that held four or five Kelly's.
"F***k that, I'm not going in there." I thought as I passed by.

Sorry Ellsworth.