Mnuchin Gallery is delighted to announce Robert Rauschenberg: Exceptional Works, 1971-1999, the gallery's first exhibition dedicated to Robert Rauschenberg. On view from May 3-June 11, 2022, the show will be accompanied by a fully illustrated catalogue featuring a conversation on Rauschenberg between curator and critic Jeffrey Weiss and artist Kevin Beasley, with an introduction by Christopher Rauschenberg.
Robert Rauschenberg is rightfully situated as one of the most influential artists of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. His use of found and experimental materials, collapsing of distinct artistic categories, and an eye towards collaboration and political activism have been inspiration for younger artists for generations. Paradoxically, the breadth of his multidimensional and perpetually ambitious oeuvre has yet to be adequately examined, and his later experiments have been given less acclaim as a result. With examples from fourteen different series, Robert Rauschenberg: Exceptional Works, 1971-1999 aims to provide a new avenue through which to appreciate this innovative artist. In juxtaposing these works, viewers can see how themes Rauschenberg first touched on in early works such as the White Paintings (1951) or the Combines (1954–64) remained anchors in his practice while evolving to meet each present moment.
The exhibition's earliest work is Castelli / Small Turtle Bowl (1971) from the Cardboard series (1971–72), made shortly after his consequential move to Captiva, off the coast of Florida. Here, the choice of found cardboard illustrates many things at once: a continued preference towards readymade, readily available materials, and a fascination with the history of each chosen object; a reflection on consumerism and globalization; and Rauschenberg's personal experience of moving and traveling. These themes continue and morph in the Hoarfrost (1974–76) and Jammer (1975–76) series, both of which are represented in the exhibition. Each take hung and draped fabric as their starting point, but to different ends. The Hoarfrosts, such as Untitled (Hoarfrost) (1974), revisit the solvent transfer technique Rauschenberg first developed while traveling with Cy Twombly in the early 1950s, imparting faint and haunting imagery onto the fabric. Meanwhile, the series title is pulled from Dante's Inferno, a nod to his earlier body of Dante Drawings (1958–60) also made with the solvent transfer process. As the Hoarfrosts evolved into the Jammers—whose name is taken from the term “windjammers,” again inspired by his move to Captiva—Rauschenberg radically removed nearly all imagery to allow the fabric to take center stage. Inspired by a visit to India in 1975, the Jammers make plain Rauschenberg's turn towards a global outlook that would culminate in the Rauschenberg Overseas Culture Interchange (ROCI) project (1984–91)—represented in this exhibition by My Panare Dream With Yutaje / ROCI VENEZUELA (1985).
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The Jammers went on to inspire the set design for Merce Cunningham's 1977 performance, Travelogue (1977). Rauschenberg's interest in the collaborative nature of theater and the fluid movement of dance was a continuous thread throughout his career and features in another work in the exhibition: Balcone Glut (Neapolitan) (1987), part of the Neapolitan subset of the Glut series (1986–89/1991–94). Originally conceived as part of a last-minute set design for a Trisha Brown performance in Naples, the work hung above the dancers' heads as they moved across the stage, creating a fractured relationship between set and performer. Again, made of found material, this time recycled industrial parts, the artist assembled Balcone Glut at a time of cultural shift away from the hand-made towards a more digital, computerized presence. Ever the progressive, Rauschenberg quickly latched on to the possibilities offered by bourgeoning technologies such as Photoshop and Iris printers, culminating in works such as S (Apogamy Pods) (1999) from one of his final bodies of work made during the dawn of the twenty-first century and the internet boom.
These pieces, along with other works from the Spread (1975–83), Kabal American Zephyr (1981–83/1985/1987–88), Salvage (1983–85), Galvanic Suite (1988–91), Urban Bourbon (1988–96), Borealis (1988–92), Spartan (1991), and Vydock (1995) series, offer a visual representation of the range and freedom that Rauschenberg maintained while upholding a persistent continuity towards material exploration, collaboration, the breaking of boundaries, and global and local activism.
This exhibition is presented in cooperation with the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation. Two other gallery exhibitions coincide with Robert Rauschenberg: Exceptional Works, 1971-1999 at Mnuchin Gallery, Robert Rauschenberg: Venetians and Early Egyptians, 1972-1974 at Gladstone Gallery, New York from May 4-June 18, 2022, and Robert Rauschenberg: Japanese Clayworks at Thaddaeus Ropac, Salzburg from April 8-July 9, 2022. For further information on the mission and programs of the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation, visit www.rauschenbergfoundation.org and follow them on Instagram at @rauschenbergfoundation.
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Video by Tom Powel Imaging, Inc.
By Linda Yablonsky
Robert Rauschenberg counts among the few artists who truly were legends in their own time. Yet history has been kinder to him than the secondary market. If collectors are willing to pay a premium for his silkscreen and combine paintings, they attach greater value to the work of his peers Jasper Johns and Cy Twombly.
That is partly why Rauschenberg’s namesake foundation has released a number of unknown or under-exposed works for sale through a trio of high-level galleries: Gladstone and Mnuchin in New York, and Thaddaeus Ropac in Salzburg. Each is presenting a different body of work in a separate environment, producing a separate exhibition catalogue to go with it.
While such collaborations between competitors are not unheard of—in 2020, Pace, Gagosian and Acquavella jointly represented the Donald B. Marron Family Collection in a private sale—they are rare, especially when the involve exhibitions. The question is: can this three-pronged strategy effect real change in the perception of an artist best known for his paintings, but whose restless experimentalism and fondness for scavenging junkyards took him well beyond painting. His appropriations of existing materials and collaborations with scientists and choreographers led to work in collage, performance, film, sound, set and costume design, and kinetic sculpture?
According to Allan Schwartzman, the adviser and private curator who masterminded the rollout, “Sometimes it takes a while for the art market to catch up with history.” Arguably, it’s Rauschenberg more than anyone who continues to influence succeeding generations of artists, some of whom get more attention in the market than their inspiration.
“I can’t think of an artist more prescient than Bob,” says Kathy Halbreich, the Robert Rauschenberg Foundation’s director. As an example, she cites the current interest in appropriation, textiles, clay, performance, film, technology and the environment among artists of varying ages and sensibilities who pay a debt to Rauschenberg every time they go into their studios.
Dozens who flocked to Gladstone’s two spaces in Chelsea for last month’s opening of Robert Rauschenberg: Venetians and Early Egyptians, 1972-1974 were visibly moved by what they saw: seemingly fragile yet revelatory sculptures of rope, cardboard and timber, each containing a multitude of ideas. Most of these works had hardly been seen in public since their making, if at all. It didn’t seem possible that, at this late date, so much that was historic had gone unnoticed. “I spent a lot of time with these works in the warehouse,” Schwartzman says, “but seeing them in the gallery was a whole other experience.”
That sense of wonderment infused the atmosphere at the dinner that followed, where the reigning spirit of Rauschenberg’s inventiveness and openness to others had many beneficiaries around the room. Perhaps most striking was the absence of collectors among the 85 artists, curators and writers; not that they don’t deserve a place at the table, but the flow of conversation was notably relaxed, possibly because it grew from common ground.
Indeed, one could draw a direct line from Rauschenberg to such disparate talents in attendance as Rachel Harrison, Matthew Barney, Gedi Sibony, Richard Aldrich, Ugo Rondinone, Paul Chan and Precious Okoyomon, who was accompanied by her lap dog, Gravity. Also seated at the dinner was Rauschenberg’s son and only child Christopher, a photographer, whose mother is the printmaker and painter Susan Weil.
According to Halbreich, “artists don’t always like talking about what came before them, but that night they all did. LaToya Ruby Frazier came from Chicago just to see this work, which came out of a life, not a production”.
I was seated beside Eric N. Mack, a young textile artist who claims Rauschenberg as a spiritual mentor, especially after Mack was given the artist’s studio during his foundation residency in Captiva, Florida. “I did the best work of my life there,” he told me. Indeed, he recently signed with a prominent gallery in Chelsea.
Speaking to the commercial prospects of the Rauschenbergs currently on show—large wall-bound works at Mnuchin, the post-minimalist sculptures at Gladstone, and little-known appropriations on clay at Ropac made in over a decade’s worth of trips to Japan—Schwartzman admits: “It’s hard for a market to grab hold of an artist whose work doesn’t register as iconic. In Rauschenberg’s case, it’s the combines, but the diversity and nimbleness of his creativity is vast, and these exhibitions open the door to him in a fresh, clear, contemporary way that the market can connect to.”
Halbreich adds: “I believe in artists, and if artists are interested in another artist, people pay attention.”
• Robert Rauschenberg: Venetians and Early Egyptians,1972-1974, Gladstone Gallery, New York, until 18 June; Robert Rauschenberg: Exceptional Works, 1971-1999, Mnuchin Gallery, New York, until 11 June; Robert Rauschenberg: Japanese Clayworks, Galerie Thaddaeus Ropac, Salzburg, until 9 July
By: Eileen Kinsella
Despite Robert Rauschenberg’s status as a towering figure in postwar American art, there is an undeniable gap between him and his peers. In both the public imagination and the marketplace, he has been overshadowed by figures like Andy Warhol and Jasper Johns.
Now, the Rauschenberg Foundation, which the artist established before his death in 2008, is hoping to ignite the enthusiasm of art lovers and buyers alike. This spring, the foundation is collaborating with three galleries—Gladstone and Mnuchin in New York and Thaddaeus Ropac in Salzburg—for focused shows that will “make visible the stylistic diversity and conceptual continuity of this radically inventive artist,” the foundation said in a statement.
By Melanie Gerlis
Three major galleries are joining forces for a transatlantic showing of lesser-known late works by American heavyweight Robert Rauschenberg (1925-2008). Thaddaeus Ropac, a longtime gallery partner of the artist’s foundation, will open a show in Salzburg (April 8-July 9) followed by New York’s Gladstone Gallery and Mnuchin Gallery at the beginning of May.
Each show will be of different bodies of work from the foundation, all of which have had limited exposure. Ropac has two related series of Clayworks, made on and from ceramic in the 1980s. Rauschenberg created these in Japan, which he first visited on tour with the Merce Cunningham Dance Company in 1964. Gladstone Gallery has two bodies of sculptural works — The Venetians (1972-73) and Early Egyptians (1973-74) — while Mnuchin will show key works from 14 of Rauschenberg’s series made between 1971 and 1999.
Most works are for sale, confirms the foundation’s adviser, Allan Schwartzman, who says Rauschenberg is about much more than the Combines and silkscreen paintings for which he is best known. “He was extraordinarily inventive throughout his life, unbound by any style, medium, imagery or treatment of surfaces,” Schwartzman says. He believes Rauschenberg is “the most undervalued artist of the postwar period”.
Last year’s Macklowe auction makes the point: Rauschenberg’s “Crocus” silkscreen (1962) may have sold for an above-estimate $11mn, but this was considerably below prices made for artists such as Andy Warhol, Willem de Kooning and Mark Rothko.