For anyone who is a Jasper Johns aficionado, this is a wonderful exploration of a very specific moment in the body of Johns’ work. The show, organized by the National Gallery of Art, Washington, does exactly what it sets out to do –to explore, through some 80+ works, a handful of specific themes which occur in the work of Jasper Johns during the period between 1955 and 1965.

The first of these themes is the target. This introductory section of the show showcases the iconic images of Johns’ target phase and boosts many wonderful large format oils alongside sketches Johns used as guidelines during this infamous period of his artistic exploration. Some of the highlights here include probably his most famous from this time, “Target with Plaster Casts” (1955) in which plaster casts of various human body parts in a rainbow of colors, are displayed above a yellow and blue target in a frieze-like manner. There is also a rather charming do-it-yourself version of the famous target motif which includes a blank drawing of a target, a paint brush and the three brightly colored paints (in red, blue and yellow) needed for one to make their own Jasper Johns target painting.

The show then brings into incorporation with the target, a more involved motif explored by Johns at this time – the use of words, specifically, the words for colors such as: “Yellow”, “Red”, “Blue”, “Orange” and “Grey”, juxtaposed on canvases which are ridden with splotchy color patterns. This “False Start” series is at times narrative and at times ironic as some of the larger works which incorporate words such as “Yellow” or “Red” are painted fully in grey scale.

The next feature as you move to the upstairs gallery space is Johns’ famous “Device” series in which we see Johns incorporating the “process” element – an element which Johns would continue to explore throughout his career. Although chronologically, this series is placed correctly in the show, its effect may have been superior had it been placed next to the “target” series because of the direct link which Johns makes between these two ideas. Much of the device series includes a “device” similar to that which Johns would have used in creating the concentric circles of his many targets. This ruler like device was also used by Johns as a means of a “scraper” – a flat tool used by an artist to “scrape” away paint from the canvas. From these more cerebral works one is able to see Johns’ intrigue with the idea of process in his art work. The focus on color and form are now secondary to the fascination with tools and their mechanics. Here we begin to see Johns’ ideas of art as a mechanical process and the artist as master of the application of process rather than a fully creative being.

Before reaching the final gallery space, there is a break in the exhibition which features large photos of Johns working in his studio. These photos depict the serious nature of Johns, who is never photographed smiling, but is instead shown intensely at work in his barren studio space. The remainder of the exhibit displays for us some large scale works which are a culmination of the themes explored thus far in the show. The larger pieces are less focused and incorporate new icons, such as furniture while still prominently showcasing ideas seen in his “target”, “false start” and “device” series. Of the final group of works, the one I found most interesting was Johns’ “Study for Skin I” (1962) in which Johns renders the nuances of the human hand though a delicate and attentive ink drawing.

Overall the show is a unique glimpse into the early work of Jasper Johns. The pieces in the show are consistently interesting and thoughtful and the focus is linear and easy to follow. The show lacks in its effort to place these works in the context of post-war American art or any historical context whatsoever for that matter, however the art is interesting enough in itself to sustain the audience’s attention. If you are a Johns enthusiast this is certainly a show worth seeing. If you know little to nothing about the artist, this show may serve as a good introduction but should in no way be thought to be representative of the whole of Johns’ work.

This show is running through April 29, 2007 and is in the upper level of the East Wing of the National Gallery at 4th Street and Constitution Ave. NW. This show is free and the Gallery is open Mon. – Sat. 10am to 5pm and Sundays 11am to 6pm.

About the author

Yasmin Tasan has been living in Washington, DC since 2001. She studied art history in college and is committed to furthering her understanding of fine art through the exploration of the many unique and interesting shows and exhibits Washington continually offers. When not roaming the halls of a museum you can most likely find her exploring a new or favorite restaurant with friends, running in Rock Creek Park or making a fool of herself at Bikram yoga.

Constitution garden is considered as one of the most beautiful park in Washington DC. It is basically located in to the boundaries of the National Mall. This garden is not being visited by many visitors, that is why this place is un-crowded. Even on the hot summer days this garden does not get the full attention of large number of masses. The best thing about this garden is that there is a beautiful pond that has got Small Island in the centre. This is basically made into the memorial of the 56 singers for the declaration of the independence. Apart from all this, another mesmerizing thing of this beautiful park is the large open air sitting area that is good enough to make the person feels both mentally and physically relaxation.

In the winter season the garden and especially pound of the garden gives a very stunning view as a lot many birds migrate here. It is not wrong to say that those people who have once visited here will surely love to come here again and again. This place always gives a pleasant and relaxing effect to one’s health and mind.  Another reason why people prefer to come here and enjoy the charismatic beauty of Mother Nature is that this garden is less crowded.

First a short explanation of the authors’ predilection for loitering in places that few visit voluntarily:

Cemeteries have always had a strange sort of allure in human imagination. There is the schlock Hollywood version of Cemeteries, the version that heightens our fears and exploits our confusion about the nature of death. There are the deeply personal places of eternal rest that have a better basis in reality, both inferred and emotional, to those of us still existent.

These places stand as a tangible testament of love, of remembrance and longing for those known lost and gone from us. Here also is a place to honor our ancestors and the great and small who made differences in our lives even if indirectly. These graves and gravestones, by and through which we make our love and respect known, have marked the spots on earth we view as sacred.
These monuments seem to express our collective helplessness in the face of the inevitable and certain hopeful avoidance of the condition altogether.

Oddly cemeteries are the only place where Cemetery humor is considered to be of questionable taste.

The deceased father of one of my best friends had a marker made and placed that reads:

“ THIS IS BORING”

He wasn’t the brooding type. He was Irish.

Cemeteries are a place of contemplation, reflection and peace. They are a physical reminder of those who came before us, and a reminder of that which inevitably awaits us all regardless of fame, creed, deed and self-image.

Cemeteries are the physical affirmation of the great mystery.

Cemeteries are one of the only places where one might openly talk and in fact have extended conversations with, the dearly departed. Even psychiatrists approve of this activity...but only on a limited time basis.

Cemeteries, and the monuments erected to the dearest departed, are a primal affirmation of the final equality of all human beings. In life it is important to affirm the things that set us apart as individuals. Death is a sort of biological Democracy, (if you will allow the absurdity of the statement)- where after a lifetime of conjecture and debate you may enter your opinions, where your vote may be cast, but your vote will most certainly not matter. King, Queen, Hilton or Crack addict- your inevitable end will come.

Amen, baby.

Cemeteries define the primal need to mark the spot of love, grief, deep loss ,and in the context of erected monuments of marble and polished stone, our last token of respect for a life lost, and a focus for the contemplation of a silence that somehow takes us all by surprise, no matter how forewarned we may be.

They are, to the historian, to the bereaved, the philosopher and to the poet quite indispensable.

They are also a nice quiet place to eat lunch, sit under a blooming magnolia tree, hide from the dispatcher and sketch in pencil.

This is how I came to love cemeteries as a young man, a budding artist/writer and hooky playing Taxi driver, first in Miami, Florida- and later in Washington, DC.

There is logic in this.

Few Taxi drivers are robbed in cemeteries. Few Taxi drivers get walk-up fares in cemeteries. Few annoying dispatchers, road raging maniacs, or repressed skin-flint non-tipping passengers will follow you into a cemetery. Other than the whirring of a weed-whacker, or the steady drone of a lawnmower from the groundskeeper- there is silence. There is little to interrupt one’s train of thought. No one taps you on the shoulder to ask you for directions.

I may be considered a bit eccentric by some, but rest assured, my dear reader- I am not a ghoul, a professional or obsessive mourner, clinically depressed(usually), in a Goth band or writing a spin -off of an Anne Rice novel.

Lets be clear on one point- just because I love cemeteries doesn’t mean I’m in a hurry to take up permanent residence in one.
And while we’re clarifying points let me add that
I dislike the modern mall mentality of the “Memorial Garden” in which the slightly sunken bronze plaques facilitate the efficient mowing of the grass in what might be just as well a football field or Frisbee preserve. There is little drama in such places. If this is the definition of perpetual care I prefer tall grass.
It takes REAL skill to play Frisbee in a Victorian cemetery.
I speak from experience.

I will openly admit a fascination for cemetery and funerary rites and rituals. I am mesmerized by the architecture, and horticulture employed in cemeteries. I am fascinated by the individual stories of those buried and gone, who no longer have the ability to tell their own tales, but who leave clues in a few simple sentences chipped in stone or carved into elaborate mausoleums in the old-style graveyards.

I am amazed at how one’s imagination can bestow attributes and empathy on a stone marker of a deceased person, unknown and unseen, and wonder at the characters who once walked, laughed, cursed, cried, spit, shat, prayed, sung, swum, procreated, sacrificed, begged, lied and cooked breakfast among us. Now they are merely names and dates chipped in granite for our assumed sense of security and universal order. Markers, some plain and forthright-others beautiful and sublime works of art and magnificent sculptures- to be visited in cycles of longing by survivors until they too become dates chipped in stone.

These are places of faded glory. Simple lives. Great achievements. Broken Hearts. Lives of duty and humility. Unfinished business. Raw ambition interrupted. Lives lost too soon. Those now perished who lived lives of grace, or lives of brutality, or in supreme sacrifice to mankind. Sometimes the aforementioned having achieved all of these things and more in the course of just a few years, or by some strange twist of fate having made massive changes to humanity AFTER death and WITHOUT their living knowledge. Some markers too heartbreaking to recount- some with only a few days on Earth.

For these reasons Washington D.C.’s cemeteries are, by virtue of the persons of power and motivation who have lived and died here, a subject of great immersion, study, fascination and spiritual rubber-necking.
Cemeteries are less about death than the way to live life.
Cemeteries show how surely Spring will come and flowers can bloom, wrap around and even displace cold granite.
Cemeteries teach you how not to waste time.
Cemeteries are wisdom in stone.

There are stories here.

About the author
MYSTR Treefrog is an artist, writer, musician and admitted Taphophile from Silver Spring.
He has worked as a Decorative and Restorative Artist in The World Bank, The Library Of Congress,The International Monetary Fund and many other Public and Private projects.
His Art website(and true given name) can be found at www.jbartscapes.com. His alter-ego,residual verbigeration and music can be found at www.myspace.com/mystrtreefrog. He performs locally in the D.C., Baltimore area, and occasionally in the street when he needs parking change...And yes, those are his real eyes.