Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84 Page 85 Page 86 Page 87 Page 88 Page 89 Page 90 Page 91 Page 92 Page 93 Page 94 Page 95 Page 96 Page 97 Page 98 Page 99 Page 100 Page 101 Page 102 Page 103 Page 104 Page 105 Page 106 Page 107 Page 108 Page 109 Page 110 Page 111 Page 112 Page 113 Page 114 Page 115 Page 116 Page 117 Page 118 Page 119 Page 120 Page 121 Page 122 Page 123 Page 124 Page 125 Page 126 Page 127 Page 128 Page 129 Page 130 Page 131 Page 132 Page 133 Page 134 Page 135 Page 136 Page 137 Page 138 Page 139 Page 140 Page 141 Page 142 Page 143 Page 144 Page 145 Page 146 Page 147 Page 148 Page 149 Page 150 Page 151 Page 152 Page 153 Page 154 Page 155 Page 156 Page 157 Page 158 Page 159 Page 160 Page 161 Page 162 Page 163 Page 164 Page 165 Page 166 Page 167 Page 168 Page 169 Page 170 Page 171 Page 172 Page 173 Page 174 Page 175 Page 176 Page 177 Page 178 Page 179 Page 180 Page 181 Page 182 Page 183 Page 184 Page 185 Page 186 Page 187 Page 188 Page 189 Page 190 Page 191 Page 192 Page 193 Page 194 Page 195 Page 196 Page 197 Page 198 Page 199 Page 200 Page 201 Page 202 Page 203 Page 204 Page 205 Page 206 Page 207 Page 208 Page 209 Page 210 Page 211 Page 212 Page 213 Page 214 Page 215 Page 216 Page 217 Page 218 Page 219 Page 220 Page 221 Page 222 Page 223 Page 224 Page 225 Page 226 Page 227 Page 228 Page 229 Page 230 Page 231 Page 232 Page 233 Page 234 Page 235 Page 236 Page 237 Page 238 Page 239 Page 240Surface Tension Gerard Haggerty “Do something, do something to that, then do something to that.” Jasper Johns’ oft-quoted aesthetic advice remains the mantra of the moment, even though it has echoed throughout studios, galleries and classrooms for years. The modern master’s time-tested, deceptively simple recipe implies a host of corollaries, and it encompasses a vast range of contem- porary art. Johns’ dictum describes Simon Raab’s working-method to a tee. Do some- thing: apply acrylic polymer paint to large sheets of aluminium or steel. Do something to that: add layer upon layer of transparent colour, each one interleafed with coats of clear epoxy and polyurethane medium that pre- vent the hues from blending together in an opaque mix. Then do some- thing to that… in Raab’s case, do many things, since he bends and dents, wrinkles, crinkles and variously distresses the painted metal support. In the process, what started as a smooth, flat sheet of aluminium or steel becomes a polychromatic bas relief—polychrome plus, really, because the colours change radically from moment to moment. Next Raab mounts the sparkling, multifaceted image on a plywood panel that’s surrounded by a stout, similarly glittering frame. Finally, to preserve each work’s unique terrain, all of the various folds, ridges, mountains and valleys are reinforced with structural foam, which the artist injects into the back of the ensemble. The apparent weight and sheer physicality of the objects that Raab fabri- cates counterpoint the sense that they emanate light, light that varies whenever the viewer—or the light source—moves. Transparency is key to achieving this metamorphosing effect. Each layer of glazed acrylic functions like a sheet of cellophane placed atop a mirrored surface. The result looks like light because it is actual light. The quality and colour of this light is affected by the artist’s choice of metals. Aluminium warps into rounded folds and it gives a blue-hued cast to the image. Steel, which is sharp enough to have drawn the artist’s blood, folds into crisp, jagged peaks; and it also lends a warm, pewter-coloured glow to the colours that overlay it. Over the course of the last five years, Raab has created and refined an art form that’s situated midway between painting and sculpture. To describe these hybrids, he coined the name parleau; parleaux in the plural. Amalgamating the French words par (“through”) and l’eau (“the water”), the term suggests the seductive quality of light passing through liquid. The moniker suits these works, which let us linger in the evanescent moment, and savor it. Strictly speaking, Raab’s efforts to manipulate light, as well as his ability to control the nuances of his complicated medium, have evolved over the course of the last five years in his Santa Barbara studio. When we look at his early collages depicting literary luminaries like Norman Mailer and Kurt Vonnegut, we realize just how rapid and purposeful this growth has been. Presaging parleaux, the cut-out paper portrait of Vonnegut sports a sparkling, serpentine lock of hair that spirals through an otherwise matte, blue mane. This prismatic silver strand reflects all of the colours of the rainbow, as well as the shape of things to come. From here, the artist took a step that became the proverbial leap: Raab first employed foil insulation, then quickly thereafter metal itself, as the ground on which he paints. Initially his paint was opaque and generally lackluster, or inadvertently streaky and washed out when applied as a 27