The artist pounds with his hammer, a strip of aluminum. The result is a floating strip; a loop in space.
The artist pounds with his hammer, a strip of aluminum. The result is a floating strip; a loop in space. . . . This piece, like the others, is meant to float, to be in the air. In it is the balancing act between the weight of weight and the buoyancy of the piece that makes it floating. The weight of the piece is the weight of gravity; the buoyancy of the piece is the buoyancy of the piece. In the end, the piece is not in the air; it is a piece of paper. Perhaps the floating nature of the piece is the point of departure for the piece.The piece also indicates a series of symmetrical relations. One can consider the piece as a plane. It is a plane and not just a flat surface. The work is a string, a piece of string, which is a plane, and so on, and so forth. And so on and so forth, until the string is deciphered. At that point the piece becomes a plane. The string becomes an object that is drawn into the work, that is, an object that is read as a plane, a plane that is at once flat and solid, and thus floating. Thus, the piece can be seen as a geometry of construction, a geometry that is constructed and thus deconstructed. The sculpture is a geometry of emptiness, and the work is empty and thus metaphoric. The sculpture suggests the existence of a place or a space that is capable of generating meaning and meaning being the element of a word. The work suggests that the figure of the work, and the figure of the figure of the sculpture, are one and the same. The sculpture implies that the figure is already present in the work, that it is capable of being found in it, and yet, even though the figure may be absent, the work is still there, suggesting its own presence, and the presence of the figure. This is what means that the work is still a work of sculpture. It is a sculpture that is not quite a sculpture.
The title of the piece is also a title: The ocean is everywhere!—Francesco BonamiTranslated from Italian by Marguerite Shore.
. . . and it floats. The piercing sound of the hammer makes the strip of aluminum hover in a vacuum, and it is floating in the void. At the same time, the piece is floating on the floor; it is like a piece of string that is suspended in midair. This is one of the few pieces in which LaBelle seems to make a formal statement, rather than a statement about itself, and it demonstrates how much he, like the other pieces in this show, deals with the problem of abstract art and the problem of representation. This is a problem that LaBelle addresses in a matter-of-fact manner, but that he does not flinch at or lose his temper. His passion is not for the abstract art of the past or the image of the present, but for an abstract art that is itself an image. In this regard, LaBelle is one of the few artists who seem to have found a way to escape the label modern and to find a way to make his art. This is what gives LaBelles work a certain sincerity, a certain excitement, an energy, a certain zestfulness that makes it, in contrast to the vast majority of contemporary art, seem nothing more than the work of an artist who has found a way to escape the label modern and to find a way to make his art.
The artist pounds with his hammer, a strip of aluminum. The result is a floating strip; a loop in space. I suggest that the piece, which requires the artists word to be uttered, is not purely an analytic exercise, but is instead a demonstration of the two-dimensional possibilities for the artist and his sign. This is shown in two works. In one, the artist has placed a small piece of canvas at the center of a square piece of aluminum; the canvas is painted, then covered with a gray-white paint. The small piece of canvas has been removed so that only a portion of the canvas remains visible; it is covered again, this time with a similar gray-white paint. In the other work, the canvas has been removed again and the canvas has been painted white, and the small piece of canvas has been extended, this time up to the middle of the piece, so that only a portion of the canvas is visible. The small piece of canvas is then covered again, this time with a similar gray-white paint. The small piece of canvas has been removed so that only a portion of the canvas is visible. The small piece of canvas has been removed so that only a portion of the canvas remains visible. The large piece of canvas is then removed so that only a portion of the canvas remains visible. Again, only the gray-white portion of the gray-white canvas remains visible; the larger canvas has been removed. Thus, the large piece of canvas has been removed, and the smaller, gray-white portion of the gray-white canvas has been preserved in a state of perpetual twilight.The artist is concerned with the gap between the two-dimensional state of the paintings and the two-dimensional state of the two-dimensional state of the two-dimensional state of the canvas. In the first work, the artists statement is a rather simple one. He says, There is a gap between what I can do and what the viewer can do. In the second work, the gap is rather narrower. The painting is positioned on a wall, but it is not painted.
The artist pounds with his hammer, a strip of aluminum. The result is a floating strip; a loop in space. And it is suspended above a beehive. The bees are in fact bubbles. In the same piece, the strips of aluminum are also suspended above a beehive; they are up to their necks in jelly. The two pieces show us how the other piece is constructed. A section of the aluminum is suspended above a beehive, on which is a piece of glass. The glass has a heart-shaped opening so that it can be used as a sieve. In another work, a cardboard box has been hung to the right of the glass; we see a beehive inside it, which is covered with a blue and white ball of tape. Inside is a small cardboard box, open at the top. We see a beehive, a cardboard box, a beehive, a beehive, a cardboard box, a beehive. The things we see, they seem to be growing out of the paper; the paper, the canvas, and the glass.