Writing about Riopelle’s pictorial production of 1964, the author Guy Robert described it as “torrential.” In other words, Riopelle achieved a kind of technical and material ease that was manifested in lyrical abundance—on large and small scales—from his enormous triptychs to his smallest, sometimes oval, canvases, in which he handled paint and colour in a similar fashion. All formats considered, this new group is like a whirlpool that immerses the viewer in a reverie of paint, a metamorphosis of form, and a “formidable reserve of power and enchantment,” writes Yves Michaud. The early 1960s was a period of major transition and autonomy that “brought Riopelle back to form and image,” Michaud adds. Once again, we find the elements as a subject of focus—more specifically a variation on the theme of water, as evidenced in this work. The torrent, the whirlpool, and the aforementioned abundance take shape here in a network of lineaments that end in patches of moving colour. “The sliding brush gives the pure tones more depth by revealing the colours that lie beneath them—it’s that famous Hofmannian translucid effect that is characteristic of Abstract Expressionism,” Michaud notes, “and it is what gives the impression of deep waters.” Inspired by this motif, Riopelle gave the paint an organic quality by drawing in countless bifurcations, bridges, and underwater arches with his brush. With its cross-currents of blue and white, burgundy and magenta, emerald green and anthracite, the entire sky seems reflected in this aquatic-like painting.
(Annie Lafleur / Trad.: Jo-Anne Balcaen)
