I first saw Xylor Jane’s work in the flat files at Pierogi Gallery in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, around 15 years ago, and I have been following her ever since. She does not show often and I don’t remember seeing her work included in any museum survey shows about the state of painting, abstraction, geometry, conceptual art, or themes such as numbers, magic, or the optical. I mention this because I think it is fair to say that Jane — a singular figure in contemporary abstract art — has flown under the mainstream art world’s radar. No matter how open-minded and inclusive its institutions claim to be, they and their stewards still have many blind spots. Jane, who has expanded and pushed her meticulously straightforward methodology into delightful areas of dazzled seeing and arcane thinking unlike anyone else’s, is one of them.

Jane is a rule-bound artist who begins with a grid and a vocabulary of dots and solid geometric areas of color. She is the heir to Alfred Jensen, Agnes Martin, Roman Opalka, Sol LeWitt, and Jess, but — importantly — she is unlike any of them. Her rules take her to some place strange and fascinating, beautiful and perplexing, mind-boggling and riveting. These are some of the qualities that led me to visit Xylor Jane: Second Saturn Return at Canada gallery (November 4–December 22, 2022).

Η συνέχεια εδώ.