I like Modernism – well, at least certain movements. This exhibition is a prelude to a new building at the AGO which will house their modernist collection. Dust off the Warhols and Rothkos. Bring out the Morrisseaus. Display the Colevilles proudly

I found myself seated often, becoming absorbed in the colours of the air brushed field paintings, thick acrylics and lathered oil.

The one I befriended most was by Jules Olitski. Born in the Ukraine in 1922 he settled in New York. I had a devil of a time trying to photograph this. The iPhone camera kept focusing on one centre colour, and blurring out the rest. The painting is large and the lighting low so it took awhile to get the right setting. Had to step back aways to get everything in focus.

“Patutsky in Paradise”, 1966. Acrylic on canvas.

Maybe it’s the Ukrainian me but I sat for about 30 minutes looking at this. Fortunately, there were nice, padded couches in the room.

Of course, who greets you as you come out of the elevator – Warhol/Elvis. I had to wear my own “modernist” t-shirt.

“Elvis I & Elvis II, 1964. Andy Warhol. Silksceen ink and acrylic (blue canvas) on linen. Silkscreen ink and spray paint (silver canvas). 2 panel, 208.3 cm X 208.3 cm.

On either side of Elvis were striking paintings that kind of left him in the dust.

“Story”, Robert Rauschenberg, Florida. 1964. Mixed media panel. 292 X 246 X 13 cm

Rauschenberg said “painting relates to both art and life” so you see common, everyday objects incorporated into the canvas. He called these works “combines”. This one was in storage and displayed for this exhibition

“Untitled (Jam Life Into Death)”, Barbara Kruger, Newark, New Jersey. 1988. Photographic screenprint on vinyl. It was about the same size as “Story”.

I turned into the Brazilian room where a nice couch awaited me. I was able to sit in all 4 directions, quietly observing each of the 4 paintings (it was a Friday and few people were in the gallery)

I picked up a few Modernism terms here. Brazilian artists were involved in styles of abstraction that focused on mechanized forms and optical illusions in the 1950s

“Rain”, Osmar Dillon. 1973. Plexiglass, stainless steel, wood. Look closely and you can see someone “getting wet” and taking a photo.

Exploring concepts of belonging and identity using ancestral symbols and organic shapes.

“Opus 3”, Tomie Ohtake. 1973. Oil on canvas.

Tomie Ohtake had an interesting turn in life. She was born in Japan but visited family in Brazil in 1936. When war broke out in her home country she settled in Brazil. She rejected the Neo-Concrete movement of the time and developed her own abstract style. “I use many colours, which I apply layer by layer.”

“Emblem No. 15”, Rubem Valentim. Brazil, 1973. Acrylic on canvas.

Rubem, a self-taught artist, took up painting after being a dentist. His work was centered around “orishas”: spiritual deities. The beings of African origin are abstracted on to the canvas.

“I try to transform into visual language the enchanted, magical work that continuously flows within me.”

“No. 1 , White and Red”, Mark Rothko. New York, 1962. Oil on canvas.

Funny enough, I had heard the name of Rothko and his style before this exhibit. He emigrated from Russia in 1913 as a child and settled in New York.

“I’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions – tragedy, ecstasy, doom and so on. If you…are moved only by their colour relationships, then you miss the point.”

Well Mark, I just enjoyed beaming the colours into my brain. No sensed of doom but I appreciated the effort you took. This painting got its own room. No other Rothkos.

“Victoire (Victory)”, Rita Letendre. 1961. Oil on canvas

“I wanted to create a new world, and if you have a world, it has to have poetry.”

I get to our first Canadian artist – Rita Letendre. Of Abenaki and Quebcois heritage, spent 2 decades painting in Montreal, then Los Angeles and finally Toronto.

While in Montreal she had a connection with the Automatistes in the 50s and 60s. She took a turn to the boldness as seen here. “It seemed that I had something to say, an overpowering rage that nothing could hold back.”

One thing I’ve been noticing is a feature on the iPhone camera that’s not working. To line up the picture frame, the camera flashes a yellow line when it is in alignment. As you can see from the above, it is tilting to the right. Going to use my Canon camera next time.

“Daybreak”, Rita Letendre. 1983. Acrylic on canvas. 76.2 X 102 cm

When I first looked at this, I had to rub my eye as I thought it was out of focus. Rita achieved this effect by softening the edges using an airbrush.

Daybreak represents her signature style – “luminous bands of meticulously rendered colour that evoke light and movement”. You really have to see it in person to experience the work she has done. Photos don’t do it justice.

Canadian artist Jack Bush was diagnosed with anxiety. His doctor suggested he experiment in art as a means of self-expression. I did not know this. He was advised to “paint freely the inner feelings and moods – to start with a blank canvas, with no preconceived ideas and just let the thing develop in colour, form and content”.

“Dazzle Red”, Jack Bush. 1965. Oil on canvas.

“Salmon Concerto”, Jack Bush. 1975. Acrylic on canvas

This one took up the whole wall. Lots of salmon swimming around. Used my walking stick for perspective.

“Multinoir”, Guido Molinari. 1962. Acrylic on canvas.

Montreal artist Guido Molinari, favoured structure and harmonious geometric style. Multinoir displays the hard edge, limited palette to create the intensity of tone.

There was a good cross section representing Alex Colville’s 40 year career. He had his own room. The enigmatic scenes of everyday life are almost instantly recognizable by people familiar with art.

“Circus Woman”, Alex Colville. 1959-1960. Oil and synthetic resin on masonite

Also, to see human figures, was refreshing after all that abstraction.

“Woman in Bathtub”, Alex Colville. 1973. Acrylic polymer emulsion.

“Woman on Wharf”. 1954. Casein tempera on untempered hardboard.

Leaving the room I encountered a bigger room with more large canvas. I guess once you get started with the idea of an abstraction, it takes on a life of its own.

“Delta Tau”, Morris Louis, Washington, DC, 1960. Acrylic resin on canvas. 257.8 X 388 cm.

Then a turnaround – a room with more pop art.

“Black Bathroom #2”, Jim Dine, Cincinnati, Ohio, 1962. Oil with china wash basin on canvas.

“…blurs the line between reality and illusion. His incorporation of everyday objects into paintings, relates to a challenging childhood and his wilful attachment to household items.”

“Black Panther”, Gene Davis, Washington, DC. 1970. Oil on canvas

Gene was part of what was called the Color Field Movement. He was a journalist for 30 but turned to painting. There was a couch in front so I rested and gazed at the stripes. After a while it became mesmerizing.

“Abstraktes Bild”, Gerhard Richter, 1986. Oil on canvas.

Gerhard was a photographer first and his first paintings were based on photographs. Then he discovered the squeegee brush and started to avoid brush strokes.

“when we describe a process…or photograph a tree, we create models: without them we would know nothing of reality. Abstract pictures are fictive models, because they make visible a reality we can neither see nor describe, but whose existence we can postulate.”

Getting to the end of the exhibit. I caught this person out of the corner of my eye saying goodbye.

Stopped at the cafe and sat near Rodin’s The Thinker to contemplate and re-imagine all the beauty I had just seen.