A breathtaking masterwork of Abstract Expressionism, 1947-Y-No. 1 stands as irrefutable testament to the radical innovation and profound brilliance of Clyfford Still’s visionary painterly oeuvre. Painted in 1947 – the year following the artist’s first solo exhibition in New York – the present work is a seminal early touchstone of Still’s practice; yet even at this early date, the limitless ground, rugged silhouette, and saturated hues of Still’s distinctive mature style are already fully expressed within 1947-Y-No. 1, creating a composition at once explosive and elegant, raw and refined. Silhouetted upon his canvas, the craggy passages of pitch-black ebony, incendiary crimson, and nuanced cream are seamlessly choreographed in a symphony of strokes that, at its ultimate crescendo, puts into visible form Still’s own statement: “I never wanted color to be color. I never wanted texture to be texture, or images to become shapes. I wanted them all to fuse into a living spirit.” (Artist quoted in introduction by Katherine Kuh in Exh. Cat., Buffalo, New York, Albright-Knox Art Gallery, the Buffalo Fine Arts Academy, Clyfford Still: Thirty-three Paintings in the Albright-Knox Art Gallery, 1966, p. 10)
The Jagged Drama of Clyfford Still’s Paintings
In further testament to the significance of the present work, 1947-Y-No. 1 was notably selected by Still himself for inclusion in his seminal 1959 exhibition Paintings by Clyfford Still, organized by the Albright-Knox Art Gallery in Buffalo (then Albright Art Gallery); personally curated by the artist, this exhibition was Still’s first large-scale survey, and remains amongst the most important exhibitions of his career. A masterwork from the formative apex of the artist’s career, 1947-Y-No. 1 achieves a holistic union of form, space and line that, in its sheer graphic power, is as compelling and undeniable as a force of nature, serving as ultimate testament to Still’s singular and unparalleled importance within the mythic narrative of postwar painting.
Although PH-144 (1947-Y-No.1) remained in the artist’s collection until the 1959 exhibition, the present work had one prior, temporary custodian shortly after it was painted. In the summer of 1949, Mark Rothko went to California and taught alongside Clyfford Still at the California School of Fine Arts; he rented a house in San Francisco for the period, and asked Still to loan this painting and one other to hang in his home during his stay. As detailed in this letter, written by Patricia Still to the Andersons to thank them for their donation of another major work by the artist to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, when Rothko left California he insisted that he be allowed to take both paintings and one further work to display in his New York apartment. This group of works included both the present work and 1947-48-W-No.1, now a highlight of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s collection. That Rothko chose PH-144 (1947-Y-No.1) from the many canvases that were doubtless still present in his friend’s studio—Still notoriously retained the vast majority of his paintings in his own collection until his death—is a remarkable testament to the unparalleled aesthetic effect and seminal importance of this singular masterwork.
Amongst the foremost figures of American Abstract Expressionism, Still’s influential role within that movement cannot be overstated. In the seemingly spontaneous yet utterly cohesive abstracted forms of 1947-Y-No. 1, alongside other key masterworks of 1946-1947, we see not only the realization of Still’s signature style, but also the true inauguration of Abstract Expressionism; painted years before Motherwell’s first Elegy or de Kooning’s first Woman, 1947-Y-No. 1 is an early and masterful realization of Still’s distinctive vision, presenting its viewer with the full depths of the artist’s innovative abstract vernacular. In his statement for the catalogue of the 15 Americans exhibition curated by Dorothy Miller at New York’s Museum of Modern Art in 1952, Still wrote eloquently of his view of the cultural frontiers at mid-century: “We are now committed to an unqualified act, not illustrating outworn myths or contemporary alibis. One must accept total responsibility for what he executes. And the measure of his greatness will be in the depth of his insight and his courage in realizing his vision.” (Exh. Cat., New York, Museum of Modern Art, 15 Americans, 1952, p. 22)
Underscoring his commitment to independent aesthetic evolution, the artist would eventually withdraw from the pressures and influences of the New York art establishment several years later, in pursuit of a more individualized practice. In the wake of this departure, Still maintained relationships with only a select group of trusted curators and institutions, including Gordon Smith, the director of the Albright Art Gallery in Buffalo, New York. In 1959, Smith invited the artist to organize and curate his own exhibition there, granting him complete control over the exhibition’s content, design, and installation. For this seminal show—the artist’s first large-scale survey, and his first exhibition since ending ties with commercial representation in 1951—Still personally selected 1947-Y-No. 1 as one of the 72 paintings to be included. Echoing Still’s unwavering commitment to creative freedom within its compelling abstract forms, 1947-Y-No. 1 stands as enduring monument to the aesthetic originality which has, over the intervening decades, come to define Still’s singular contribution to twentieth-century art.
A superb example of Still’s revered corpus of canvases from this period, 1947-Y-No. 1 achieves a highly specific formal elegance within its abstract forms that is echoed within only one other masterwork: its sister painting, 1947-Y-No. 2. Painted directly after the subject work and subsequently held in Still’s personal collection and then estate for over six decades, 1947-Y-No. 2 is, as termed by the artist himself, a ‘replica’ of the subject work. Known for his individualized practice, Still is entirely unique within the Abstract Expressionist movement in his practice of returning to the same composition in subsequent paintings.
Describing the impetus behind this practice, the artist reflects, “Making additional versions is an act I consider necessary when I believe the importance of an idea of breakthrough merits survival on more than one stretch of canvas.” (the artist cited in Exh. Cat., Denver, Clyfford Still Museum, Repeat/Recreate: Clyfford Still’s ‘Replicas,’ 2015, p. 14) Indeed, within the subsequent 1947-Y-No. 2, the same intricate ebony shadows, veins of scarlet, and yellow starburst seen here sprawl across the identically sized canvas, as Still explores the composition of the present work with equal verve. While highly reminiscent of the subject work, however, there are nuanced variations in hue, texture, and form that render the two paintings renditions of the same idea, rather than mirror images. Upon close inspection, while the jagged forms of the present work are echoed in its successor, they are executed with a controlled reticence that speaks to the reserved consideration of a familiar idea, rather than the exhilarating rush of fresh discovery. Viewed side-by-side, the explosive force and unparalleled intensity of the present work is undeniable, powerfully invoking the thrill that Still himself must have experienced upon viewing 1947-Y-No. 1 – the pioneering embodiment of an idea so powerful, so compelling, that it demanded an additional embodiment.
Georges Meguerditchian / RMN-GP
Powerfully massed against the textured white ground, the stark, craggy forms of 1947-Y-No. 1 invoke the raw intensity of a perilous arctic tundra or plunging cavernous abyss, effectively articulating a gripping visual drama within the most essential of artistic means. Exemplified by the subject work, paintings of the later 1940s are notable for the artist’s use of white paint, rather than raw canvas, to contrast his darker forms; in her essay for the catalogue of Still’s 1979-1980 show at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, scholar Katharine Kuh reflects: “In [Still's] work white is no less important than black. Sometimes a canvas is painted white; or, in reverse, bare canvas is allowed to interact with painted areas. In neither case, whether covered with pigment or left partly exposed, does any work by Still depend on a conventional background. All elements are interrelated and share equal validity. Breaking accepted rules, the artist forces normally receding colors to advance and advancing colors to recede.” (Katharine Kuh in Exh. Cat., New York, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Clyfford Still, 1979-1980, p. 12)
Indeed, against the stark intensity of Still’s white ground and dominant darker forms, his selective use of saturated color—electrifying orange, yellow, and scarlet pigment—is all the more searing for its restraint. In every nuanced daub, 1947-Y-No. 1 is profoundly representative of Still’s extraordinary painterly spirit, presenting its viewer with a glimpse into the depths of his artistic brilliance and enduring as a physical measure of his unrivaled creative magnitude. Describing the significance of Still’s output in terms highly fitting for the present work, Kuh concludes: “The man is his work. The two cannot be separated. I doubt if anything could have sidetracked Clyfford Still. And one feels the same way about his paintings. Majestic, serious, sometimes somber, sometimes exhilarating, they seem to grow of their own free will. Nothing contains them, nothing stops them. How exactly they were painted seems irrelevant; it is their total impact that counts. These canvases are not built on themes about life; they are an extension of life, a key to ourselves, to our pierced universe, and, above all, a key to Clyfford Still.” (Katharine Kuh in in Exh. Cat., Buffalo, Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Clyfford Still: Thirty-three Paintings in the Albright-Knox Art Gallery, 1966, p. 11)
Market Precedent: Clyfford Still
In every way exemplary of Still’s radical creative vision, 1947-Y-No. 1 is a stirring testament to the steely intensity and unwavering purpose with which the artist approached his abstract canvases, never faltering in his determination to express the inexpressible. In his introductory essay for an exhibition of Still’s work, Ben Heller eloquently describes the essential qualities of Still’s practice: “Color, surface, edge, scale, shape, verticality, pressure, tension, relaxation, movement, grandeur–these are the painter’s tools. To speak of them as subjects for paintings is but a way to draw attention to Still’s ingenious and highly personal manipulations of these tools, to his fusion of technique, image and power, the means by which he acts upon our feelings, the essence of his mystery and greatness.” (Ben Heller in Exh. Cat., New York, Mary Boone Gallery, Clyfford Still: Dark Hues/Close Values, 1990, n.p.) The ultimate embodiment of this apt summation, 1947-Y-No. 1 is archetypal of Still’s most compelling canvases; while resolutely abstract, his suggestive forms project a narrative based not on figural representation, but on a spellbinding synthesis of color, contour and painterly dynamism.
As with the greatest examples of Rothko’s exquisite hovering forms, or of Newman’s precise yet profound linear zips, Still’s fields of unfettered expression elicit deep and instantaneous emotions. Yet while Rothko and Newman’s iconic canvases draw immense power from their saturated hues, the purest intention – and ultimate power – of 1947-Y-No. 1 lies within the compelling contours of Still’s searing abstract forms. Heller describes: “The subject of these paintings: Edge. Not the edge of the canvas, but the torn, jagged, moving edge which defines shape. Still’s edge is his particular, his singular trademark. It is line, it is form, but it is also more than simply line, does more than just traverse. It is his carrier of movement; it creates direction, speed, and activity. It is rough and even; it upsets and soothes. It sets pace by creeping or swiftly thrusting, by penetrating and bisecting. It is irregular; it twists and turns. It can be smooth and clean as a knife.” (Ben Heller in Ibid., n.p.) Juxtaposing his stygian crags against a creamy ground, Still achieves a riveting tension between light and dark, aperture and expanse, action and stillness; while the inky tendrils seem apt to spread across the silvery fields, their jagged perimeters are contained within delicate seams of scarlet and yellow pigment that, while never making contact with their darker counterparts, structure the composition to create an exquisitely balanced whole.
