
The SFMOMA’s two massive Sol LeWitt atrium wall drawings – the last works still up from his retrospective in 2000 – are being painted over to make room for an upcoming Martin Puryear installation.
It doesn’t sadden me that they’re no longer on view. Because the instruction set is the kernel of the work and can lead to infinite authentic resurrections, the piece is simply in one less place. What’s more poignant to me is that after eight years the exhibition that changed the course of my personal, artistic, and professional life has finally concluded.
I feel fortunate that my first encounter with Conceptual Art wasn’t a chilly philosophical affair. For while a Kosuth or Art and Language show would has been just as likely to pique my interest in this realm of art making, I’m grateful that it came in visual terms. And in Sol’s unique way. His work’s breathtaking delicacy, lyricism, intellectual rigor, and modesty are core features of the best art I could make and, by proxy, of the best life I could lead.
While his SFMOMA retrospective is now relegated to memory, I suppose it always was. Our lives are lived in recollection, looking back on the wake of experience cast off from the fleeting present.
And since Sol’s work is fundamentally about the idea behind the work his pieces seem architected in the language of memory. It’s appropriate, then, that his retrospective is now over – freed from binding physicality and loosened into the realm of remembrance.