Kunsthalle Bielefeld in Germany
Installation view: “All Light: Light and Space Yesterday and Today,” Kunsthalle Bielefeld 2025.
Photo: Philipp Ottendörfer
Installation view: “All Light: Light and Space Yesterday and Today,” Kunsthalle Bielefeld 2025.
Photo: Philipp Ottendörfer
We are very excited to see installation images from the Kunsthalle Bielefeld in Germany, for a show titled, “All Light: Light and Space Yesterday and Today.”
Over the past ten years, exhibits in Berlin, Paris, London and Copenhagen have broadened the audience for Kauffman’s work. Now, that European exposure continues at the Kunsthalle Bielefeld in Germany. This new and expansive show, in a museum designed by American architect Philip Johnson, includes contemporary European artists inspired by the original leaders in Southern California during the 1960s.
In 2016, Kauffman’s work gained visibility in Europe, with major exhibits in Berlin and Paris. Sprüth Magers, Berlin, presented Craig Kauffman: Works from 1962 – 1964 in Dialogue with Francis Picabia and Marcel Duchamp, from April through June. Following that show, the Centre Pompidou in Paris included Kauffman in Beat Generation, June–October, 2016.
Returning to London after decades in 2018, with widespread notice and strong reviews, Kauffman was prominently featured at Sprüth Magers, London, in Crossroads: Kauffman, Judd and Morris, January–March, 2018. Also in England, the Tate Liverpool presented a show titled Op Art in Focus, from July 2018–June, 2019. Kauffman’s 1967 Untitled wall relief from the Tate collection was included.
Fabricating Something Fresh
“…let’s see what we can do with this material and these techniques that is not mainstream, that does not have a contemporary tradition…it wasn’t about tapping into an existing structure and continuing it. It was like fabricating something fresh.” —John Mason[i]
One of the central themes I’ve found in my research was how artists are pursuing something new and discovering their own direction by immersing themselves in the work. It’s been repeated in my interviews with John Mason, as shown in the above quote, and I’m reminded of how Larry Bell often says, “My work is my teacher.” The L.A. artists of the late 1950s and early 1960s are all consistent in engaging the process of work as their means of discovery. Mason was foremost in breaking with traditional techniques.
John Mason working on floor of his shared studio in Los Angeles, c. 1959-60
Photo courtesy of John Mason studio archives
John Mason, White Horizontal Relief, 1960
Installation at Frank Lloyd Gallery 2000
Photo by Anthony Cuñha
They were also absorbing forms and ideas from other art practices. For Mason and Voulkos, there was the main part of their shared studio on Glendale Boulevard in what is now known as Silverlake. They hired an expert to build a huge kiln; his name was Mike Kalin. This allowed both artists to produce massive and revolutionary forms, making a huge impact when exhibited at Los Angeles galleries. Consider how stunning this must have seemed as it was first encountered on La Cienega Boulevard at Ferus Gallery:
John Mason, Green Spear, installation view at Ferus Gallery
Photo courtesy John Mason studio archives
The break with tradition and the experimentation were noted by historians and critics, and that solidified the recognition of this period for the new ceramic sculpture. John Coplans wrote in Art in America:
“Apart from the assemblage movement, from this moment onward these artists were to constitute the beginnings of a solid core of development that was to lead to the most adventurous painting and sculpture in California. Whatever shift in sensibility occurred in the light of this new painting—at least in the early stages—it was primarily that of exploration, absorption or adaptation of the vocabulary to individual needs. The two ceramists, Peter Voulkos and John Mason, were the first to take the plunge into something quite startlingly unfamiliar by applying the most radical of techniques to fired-clay sculpture. Voulkos’ emotionally charged and capriciously piled fired-clay monoliths were completely innovatory and an important close as to the possible extension of the vocabulary.”[ii]
John Mason in studio with Untitled Vertical Sculptures, circa 1960
Photo courtesy John Mason studio archives
[i] Frank Lloyd, Interview with John Mason, July 2010, Scripps College project funded by Getty Research Institute, 2010.
[ii] Coplans, John, Circle of Styles on the West Coast, Art in America, Number 3, 1964, p. 39.
Late 1950s and Early 1960s in Los Angeles
The period of time that interests me is the late 1950s through 1960s in Los Angeles. In many mediums, L.A. artists broke through from historical traditions, and propelled their fellow artists to new heights. I have concentrated, in my research and in exhibits, on re-contextualizing such achievements, starting with the monumental ceramic sculpture of John Mason and Peter Voulkos. Back in 1999, my gallery presented a show that required the use of a huge flatbed truck, a forklift, and a large crew. It was a giant Mason sculpture called the X-Wall. The total weight of the ten blocks of fired clay was over two tons. My Santa Monica gallery neighbors thought I was crazy to mount the show, but it had the right effect: people really understood the massive power of Mason’s early work. It was awesome.
John Mason, X-Wall, 1965, ceramic, 84 x 168 x 18 inches
In a 1977 interview, Mason stated, “We were exploring the techniques to take them some place where the previous tradition would not normally have supported them. There was a feeling that it was time to change; it was a kind of consensus.”[i] The means to this change were similarly described by critic and curator John Coplans (1920–2003), writing in 1966: “The principal root from which many of these artists derive is an abstract or non-objective art ruptured from historical context . . . there was a break with sacrosanct traditions as to what painting or sculptural form or material had to be.”[ii]
Peter Voulkos, Sevillanas, 1959 (1999 casting), bronze, 56 3/4 x 27 x 19 inches
The shift in thinking took place in Los Angeles from the mid-1950s to the late 1960s, and Mason, Price, and Voulkos were not alone in sensing the need for change. Coplans, writing for Art in America, summarized the evolution of the new art in Los Angeles. He traced “a sense of crises” in the emerging art world of LA, and discussed the way that some exhibitions of European and American art affected many painters, adding Peter Voulkos, a ceramist from Montana, and his colleague John Mason, and—both very much younger—Kenneth Price and Billy Al Bengston. Apart from the assemblage movement, from this moment onward these artists were to constitute the beginnings of a solid core of development that was to lead to the most adventurous painting and sculpture in California.[iii]
Peter Voulkos, Rondena, 1958, 64 x 47 x 46 inches, Sheinbaum Collection
Five decades later, the work of these artists points to a powerful shift in an emerging art scene. Billy Al Bengston (b. 1934), an early participant, has stated, “As close as I figure, modern art in Southern California started with Pete [Voulkos]. He was a germinator. And that is because of his ability to take the breath out of something and bring it back so much bigger.”[iv]
(This is partially excerpted from my essay “Vanguard Ceramics,” published in Clay’s Tectonic Shift: John Mason, Ken Price, Peter Voulkos, 1956 to 1968, J. Paul Getty Museum and Scripps College, 2012.)
[i] John Mason, interview by Rose Slivka, 1977, quoted in “The Artist and His Work: Risk and Revelation,” The Art of Peter Voulkos (Tokyo: Kodansha International and the Oakland Museum, 1995), 41–42.
[ii] John Coplans, Ten from Los Angeles (Seattle: Seattle Art Museum, 1966), 9.
[iii] John Coplans, “Circle of Styles on the West Coast,” Art in America 52, no. 3 (June 1964), 25.
[iv] Billy Al Bengston, interview by Frank Lloyd, August 24, 2010, unpublished transcript, archives, Ruth Chandler Williamson Gallery, Scripps College.
Line in Clay and Paper
In 2004, I presented a show which paired Peter Voulkos etchings and monoprints with his sculpture. From the beginning of my gallery program, I wanted to show artists’ works from all aspects of their practice. Not just the ceramic sculpture or vessels, but their drawings, paintings and other media. I didn’t have to look far afield, as there were significant bodies of work in painting, drawing and printmaking. This led me to ask how an exhibit might be configured in the Santa Monica space, to reflect the relationship of two dimensional works to sculpture. Placement in the gallery was a key to this kind of exhibit.
Installation view of Peter Voulkos: Works on Paper 2004 exhibition at Frank Lloyd Gallery.
The exhibition also included three ceramic plates and two tea-bowls that demonstrate the inter-relationship of surface quality and incised line. Voulkos’ line quality, alternately sinuous and deeply incised into the etching plate, is directly related to the use of sgraffito in the surface of his ceramic sculptures.
Installation view of Peter Voulkos: Works on Paper 2004 exhibition at Frank Lloyd Gallery.
Through his inventive approach to printmaking, Voulkos created rugged, tactile line quality on the flat plane of his monotypes and etchings. He further developed the surface of these works by using his hands and fingers to apply additional unique elements. These elements convey the same sense of process and dynamism present in his ceramic sculptures.
From left to right, Peter Voulkos, Untitled, 2000 and Peter Voulkos, Untitled Tea Bowl, 1999
The images depicted in the works on paper also relate to the forms Voulkos created in clay. Despite the similarity of imagery, the works on paper were never intended as plans or drawings for future works. Rather they were an extension of the ceramic works, allowing Voulkos to explore and develop his ideas in a linear format.
Peter Voulkos, Untitled, 1999, monotype, 17 x 19 inches
Our First Peter Voulkos Show
When I first moved the gallery to Santa Monica, it opened up many possibilities. I had a goal of presenting large scale ceramics in the context of the other galleries. The obvious choice was to show the legendary artists from the 1950s and 1960s. And ultimately, the artist that I wanted to show was Peter Voulkos. I started to meet with him as early as 1997, and continued to fly or drive to Northern California.
After several meetings, lunches and dinners with Peter and his wife Ann Adair Voulkos, I finally reached an agreement for a show, held at my gallery in late 1999. We had arranged for a full truck load of new work, and the gallery was full. We also had a great response from the press, with a preview article in the Los Angeles Times by Hunter Drohojowska-Philp:
When the show went up, we had an amazing review by Christopher Knight in the Los Angeles Times, including the opening paragraph with “it’s amazement of a different order—the kind that comes from being in the presence of seemingly effortless artistic mastery. These vessels can make you gulp.”
Knight concluded his review with this seldom used recommendation: “Critical to the emergence of a significant art scene in Los Angeles in the second half of the 1950s, the 75-year-old artist has lived in Northern California since 1959. This is only his second solo show in an L.A. Gallery in 30 years. Don’t miss it.”
I hosted a dinner for the artist, his wife and friends, and many of the collectors. As one can see, it was a time for celebration and pride. Here I am, seated with Peter Voulkos, in a photograph taken by Donald Schlenger:
From Drawing to Construction
I’m always interested in how artists take an idea and expand it—make it manifest. An artist may make a small drawing, or perhaps from a fragment of some earlier painting, and then expand it into a painting or even a series of paintings. The process involves not only increasing scale, but adding color and refining details. When we look at the final work, how do we know what steps were taken? Now that we have the archives of the artist Craig Kauffman, it is possible to try to reconstruct his process. The images here are one version of that process.
Untitled, c.1973–74
Ink and graphite on paper, 13 3/8 x 10 3/4 inches
Collection of Estate of Craig Kauffman
Untitled, 1973-4
Watercolor and graphite on paper, 30 x 22 inches
Collection of Crocker Art Museum, Sacramento
Cité Rouge, 1973-4
Acrylic on wood and muslin, 100 x 82 inches
Collection of Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego
During the years 1973-76, Kauffman moved away from his use of plastic as a support and began his architectural use of wood, canvas and color. He stated that he wanted to re-define what painting meant to him, and how the works interacted with the wall. There is a kind of rustic spontaneity to these pieces, although he made drawings and watercolors like the above examples to prepare for the large scale painted constructions. There are linear elements of wood, with large open areas.
Following a show at Riko Mizuno gallery, Henry J. Seldis wrote for the Los Angeles Times: “To me the complex yet immediate effects created by Craig Kauffman’s painted wood/canvas wall
structures have a combination of careful construction and spontaneity of execution that makes them the most satisfactory works created by this gifted and versatile artist to date. The way these objects use and encompass the wall itself and engage the spectator in the artist’s basically poetic speculations is entirely convincing, especially when carried out on a large scale.”
Images copyright Estate of Craig Kauffman/Artists Rights Society (ARS) New York
Clay’s Tectonic Shift
John Mason, Cross Form White, 1964
Back in 2009 to 2012, I was closely involved with the organization and presentation of an exhibition at Scripps College, which was a part of the first Getty-sponsored Pacific Standard Time. The show was titled “Clay’s Tectonic Shift: John Mason, Ken Price, Peter Voulkos 1956-1968.” I am recalling this now, as it is a proud accomplishment. In fact, I have referred to the show in a talk about my life as an art dealer; it’s something that I’m extremely proud of. As the Getty initiative asked, Scripps delivered an exhibit based on original scholarly research, presented at an educational institution, and funded for the benefit of the public. They borrowed from co-operating museums around the country.
Interestingly, a Los Angeles Times critic protested my involvement. The ensuing controversy, propelled by an article in the Los Angeles Times by Mike Boehm and published on January 14, 2012, included a quote from Christopher Knight:
“Ultimately, the museum’s interest is scholarly, and the dealer’s interest is mercantile,” said Christopher Knight, The Times’ art critic. “Those interests might both be honorable, but they’re not the same, and sometimes they even clash. That’s why the AAM has a code of ethics that forbids it. Scripps and the Getty made a mistake by not honoring that.”
However, during Mr. Boehm’s interview, I asked if he had read my essay. He did not!
I found that odd then, and I still do. I must repeat the opening paragraphs of that essay, which was used by the editors (Scripps, Getty and peer-reviewed) to lay out the purpose of the show:
“The goal in forming this exhibition was to correct the mistaken impression that the key innovations were made at Otis and to examine the associated mythology. The exhibition focuses on abstract sculpture; it is not an inclusive view of the time period, nor a survey of the artists. The three artists followed individual paths as they willfully pushed a new use of the medium into the mainstream professional arena, where it was widely recognized and documented.
John Mason, Spear Form, 1963
Abstract sculpture provided the vehicle for this monumental change.[i] Critics, curators, and collectors recognized the work represented in Clay’s Tectonic Shift as work that challenged the existing hierarchy of materials and signified individual approaches to an essential and timeless medium. This ceramic work was at the forefront of experimentation in all media, as artists broke with traditional sculptural materials and methods of carved marble, cast bronze, and painted wood. Ken Price succinctly described the problem: ‘In those days clay as an art medium was dead and buried.'[ii] Mason, Price, and Voulkos were well aware of this delimiting attitude, and they were determined to change that established norm. Clay’s Tectonic Shift demonstrates how they led the charge and explored a significant shift in ideas—by formal means and by fearless innovation.”
[i] Critics and historians have addressed the so-called Otis years (although the name was Los Angeles County Art Institute) in such exhibitions as Abstract Expressionist Ceramics, presented by John Coplans at the University of California at Irvine in 1966; Otis Clay: the Revolutionary Years, 1954–1964 at Garth Clark Gallery, Los Angeles, in 1982; Otis Clay: the Revolutionary Years, 1954–1964 at Garth Clark Gallery, New York, in 2000; and Revolution in Clay at Scripps College in 1994. The terms “ceramic sculpture,” “Otis clay,” and “abstract expressionist ceramics” have been widely discussed; there is a consensus that none of these terms can be applied to all the work made during this era. See, for example, the cogent discussion of this terminology in Christopher Knight, “Otis Clay: A Revolution in the Tradition of Pottery,” Los Angeles Herald Examiner, September 29, 1982.
[ii] Hunter Drohojowska-Philp, “A Life in Clay (Interview with Ken Price),” Artnet online magazine, www.artnet.com/magazines/features/drohojowska-philp, accessed February 17, 2010.
Hemispherical Bubbles and Exquisite Colors
Acrylic lacquer on vacuum formed plastic
34 x 38 x 12 in
Drape formed acrylic with acrylic lacquer and glitter
36 x 40 x 8 in.
Craig Kauffman’s late paintings on plastic were presented in a solo show at Danese Gallery, New York, in 2010. Among the strong reviews was a highly descriptive and praising analysis by Ken Johnson in the New York Times:
“In the late 1960s Mr. Kauffman…formed shapes resembling large hemispherical bubbles, which attracted much attention at the time. Recently he returned to the bubble form, and this show presents a half-dozen examples. Painted from behind in nacreous lacquers–in off-whites and tints of orange, yellow and green–they resemble giant pearls. He also created concave forms with glittery, six-sided centers that are like big flower blossoms. Also spray-painted from behind, they are exquisitely colored. Glowing misty yellow surrounds the magenta center of one; royal blue frames the emerald hexagon of another.”
–excerpt from Johnson, Ken. “Art in Review: Craig Kauffman, ‘Late Work.’” New York Times, October 1, 2011
Another review, from Senior Editor at Art in America Janet Koplos, described the open hexagonal Flowers: “Kauffman’s last series, dated 2009, offers a stylized flower form that opens out from a flat hexagonal center that’s solidly covered in glitter. On view was one flower in tones of pink with silver-green glitter, another in yellow with a deep pink, and a third—the most complex—which seems to be clear at the edges and deep morning-glory blue at the blossom’s throat, with pinkish highlighting and golden glitter at the center. Kauffman’s materials speak of modern chemistry and pop culture, but the forms are calm and the color ethereal.”
–excerpt from Koplos, Janet. “Exhibition Reviews. Craig Kauffman, Danese.” Art in America (December 2010), pp. 153–154.
Amazing Critter
Photo by Andreas Lechthaler of Craig Kauffman Untitled, 1969 Loop at Frank Gehry offices.
At the 2010 memorial for Craig Kauffman, one of the speakers was Frank Gehry. Frank reflected on his early meeting with Craig, when they were both enrolled at USC School of Architecture:
“So, an incredible artist, a great inspiration for a lot of us…he must have been 17 or 18 when I met him. So I met him at architecture school, USC, and if he was 17 or 18, he must have been a genius to get there that early, huh? Yeah.
So I was in second year, and trying to find my bearings, and in first year there was this big ruckus, and rumbling, and lot of noise about this amazing critter that came into the school, and was doing incredible drawings and architectural ideas.”
Gehry continued to follow Kauffman’s work throughout his career.
Translucent Bowls
Craig Kauffman, Untitled, 1994-2002, Drape formed acrylic with acrylic lacquer, 51 ½ x 35 ½ x 7 inches
Craig Kauffman, No. 2-9, 1994-95, Drape formed acrylic with acrylic lacquer, 51 ¼ x 36 x 7 inches
During the years 1994 through 2004, Craig Kauffman worked intermittently on a series of oval forms that were concave, or rounded in. While he painted the oval shape which tapers inward, and the center, he later covered the flattened center with glitter. They were a little over four feet high, and three feet wide.
Due to the way Kauffman painted the transparent plastic exterior, the pieces seem to float or hover on the wall, and cast a colored shadow. The shapes were new, the painting was open.
Writing for Art in America about a 1995 show of the earliest of these pieces at Patricia Faure Gallery, critic Michael Duncan wrote: “Formally, these works obliterate the closed “thingness” of Kauffman’s earlier bubbles. Yet, as with those pieces, light penetrates the translucent “bowls,” throwing colors and shadows onto the gallery walls. As in all of Kauffman’s work, the subtlety of color, delicacy of texture, and air of mystery seem spiritually founded in Asian art.”
–Quote from:
Duncan, Michael. “Craig Kauffman at Patricia Faure.” Art in America (April 1996), pp. 122–123.
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