From the Archives: Five Questions with Adolph Gottlieb for the Christian Science Monitor, 1972

In 1972, to mark the opening of Abstract Painting in the 70s (April 14 – May 12, 1972) at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, Adolph Gottlieb was asked to respond to five questions by Susan Drysdale, writer for the Christian Science Monitor. His responses were published in an article in The Christian Science Monitor along with the responses of other artists included in the exhibition such as Richard Diebenkorn, Robert Motherwell, and Helen Frankenthaler. Four works by Gottlieb were included in the exhibition.

Gottlieb's responses are printed below in full and supplemented with material from the Foundation's archives. 

One of the four paintings exhibited in Abstract Painting in the 70s at the Museum of Fine Arts Boston, Adolph Gottlieb, Red vs. Blue, 1972, acrylic on canvas, 90 x 108"

Susan Drysdale: What have you found to be the greatest single problem facing you as an artist, and has this changed over the years?

Adolph Gottlieb: The greatest single problem I have facing me as an artist is the gap between the artist and the public, and I have found this has not changed through the years.

SD: Do you start with a preconceived idea of what you want to paint or what is your starting point?

AG: I generally have a clear idea of what I want to paint, otherwise I would be working in a state of confusion.

Adolph Gottlieb at 22nd Street studio, New York City, c. 1965. Photographer: Robert Estrin

SD: May I have some idea of your working methods – such as – if your work does not develop as you expect do you start again or work with it until something emerges, perhaps in a totally different form; do you paint directly onto the canvas, or sketch it out first or make preliminary drawings or what? Do you generally lay on the paint – with a brush, sponge, spray gun, etc; do you find it difficult to decide when a painting is finished, and when it is do you wish it out of sight, or are you reluctant to part with it?

AG: When I start working the painting must be good immediately, otherwise I discard the canvas and start another one. I have often worked over the same painting for long periods, but I am always seeking the “alla prima” that spontaneous effect that looks as if I get what I sought immediately. I detest paintings, that look labored and I do not want to burden the spectator with my struggle.

One of the four paintings exhibited in Abstract Painting in the 70s at the Museum of Fine Arts Boston, Adolph Gottlieb, Lake, 1971, acrylic on canvas, 90 x 108" 

SD: If you were to name any three or four painters or people both contemporary and earlier whom you know to have had an effect on your work and viewpoint who would you pick?

AG: Concerning my influences: of early painters, Cimabue has had the greatest effect on me. Of contemporary painters, I cannot be so specific because if I see anything at all useful around me, I see no reason not to take it. I do not like to be tagged as being influenced by Mr. “X” or Mr. “Y” whom I consider my peers. I think I like doing best what I feel is uniquely my own. I shall say that in my early days, the painter whom I admired the most and who, in certain respects, influenced me was Cézanne. I have been influenced also by James Joyce, Dostoyevsky, and Sigmund Freud, as well as Hemingway and Faulkner. This may seem far-fetched, but it merely indicates that almost everything in our environment influences us, even phenomena such as the Grand Canyon.

Cimabue, The Virgin and Child in Majesty Surrounded by Six Angels, c. 1275, Collection of Musée du Louvre © 1997 RMN-Grand Palais (Musée du Louvre) / Hervé Lewandowski

Adolph Gottlieb, Pictograph, 1942, oil on canvas, 48 x 36“

Paul Cézanne, Madame Cézanne (Hortense Fiquet), 1891. Oil on canvas; 36 ¼ x 28 ¾”, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Bequest of Stephen C. Clark, 1960 (61.101.2)

Adolph Gottlieb, Esther, 1931, oil on canvas, 19 x 24"

SD: Many people, even today, find it hard to understand that thought and emotion can be expressed in the abstract. Would you be kind enough to give me the titles of say three or four paintings in collections and in the Boston show that demonstrate their use as a vehicle for a particular emotion, and what in your opinion is the feeling that comes over strongest – tragic, joyful, contemplative, etc.?

AG: It is difficult for me to pinpoint the specific emotions I try to convey in my paintings. The closest I can come is to say the paintings deal with disparate images, and I am involved with tension which is set up in such polarities so that my work can be involved with both love and hate at the same time. Admittedly, this creates difficulties for people who must see things as either black or white. I do not think it is my responsibility to define the range in between, for this is a complex problem involving subtleties of feelings.

Adolph Gottlieb in his 23rd Street Studio, 1960. Photographer: Guy Weill.

From the Library of Adolph Gottlieb:

Title page of a book from Adolph Gottlieb's personal library: Burger, Fritz. Cezanne und Hodler: Eifuehrung in Die Probleme Der Malerei Gegenwart, Munich: Delphia Verlag, 1920.

A sketch made by the artist on the inside cover, c. 1922.

Title page of a book from Adolph Gottlieb's personal library. Joyce, James. A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, New York: B. W. Huebsch, 1917.

Title page of a book from Adolph Gottlieb's personal library. Freud, Sigmund. A General Introduction to Psychoanalysis, Garden City: Garden City Publishing Company, Inc., 1943.

Archival Material:

Letter from Susan Drysdale to Adolph Gottlieb including questions for the artist to answer for an article in The Christian Science Monitor, March 31, 1972.

Gottlieb's responses to Drysdale's questions, April 10, 1972.

Drysdale, Susan. "Abstract ‘Artmaking’ in the ‘70s", Christian Science Monitor, April 24, 1972

Installation image of Abstract Painting in the 70s (April 14 – May 12, 1972) at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Adolph Gottlieb's Curtain (1971) is pictured to the right of the door frame.

A Photo Essay: Adolph Gottlieb Portraits by Aaron Siskind

Adolph Gottlieb, Aaron Siskind, c. 1927, oil on canvas, 27 1/16 x 19 13/16"

In 1942, Adolph Gottlieb was photographed at his home in Brooklyn by his friend and photographer Aaron Siskind. In the 1920s, after Gottlieb returned to New York from his time in Europe, the two first met as members of a literary society. Siskind was then a student at City College studying social science and his friendship with Gottlieb fueled his interest in contemporary art. 

Below, we have collected the 1942 photographs of Gottlieb by Aaron Siskind and other supplementary material from our archive. 

Adolph Gottlieb in his home/studio in Brooklyn with pieces from his African art collection, 1942, © Aaron Siskind Foundation.

"It was in the early ‘20s. And Aaron, together with a group of my friends, were all going to City College at the time. Most of them belonged to a literary society at City College called Clyonia. All of them had literary interests. I had some literary interests, but only as a side issue because I already considered myself at that time a painter. Well, I didn’t go to City College. I had, at that point, come back from a year and a half, a year where I had been studying painting. So that was these literary men, so-called, I guess. I was the one who knew about painting—I more or less introduced them to Contemporary Painting. A number of us used to go quite regularly to the museums and the galleries. We used to haunt them, the museums."
–Adolph Gottlieb in a March 1971 interview with Carl Chiarenza 

"I had spent a year in Arizona, in ’37. When I came back I recall that Aaron made some photographs of me. And then I made a deal with him that he would photograph all my new paintings and I would give him a painting, which we did." 
–Adolph Gottlieb in a March 1971 interview with Carl Chiarenza

Adolph Gottlieb in his home/studio in Brooklyn with paintings including Reflection (1941) and Pictograph (1942), 1942, © Aaron Siskind Foundation.

Adolph Gottlieb, Reflection, 1941, oil on linen, 20 x 16 1/16"

Adolph Gottlieb, Pictograph, 1942, oil on canvas, 48 x 36"

"I was rather surprised when I discovered that Aaron was very seriously taking photographs. And the first ones I recall seeing were in the early ‘40s up in Gloucester when he was taking photographs of a wooden fence, and showing the cracks, minute detail. They looked very much like Abstract Expressionist paintings. It struck me. They had this painterly character."
–Adolph Gottlieb in a March 1971 interview with Carl Chiarenza 

Adolph Gottlieb in his home/studio in Brooklyn in front of Pictograph - Symbol (1942), 1942, © Aaron Siskind Foundation

Adolph Gottlieb, Pictograph - Symbol, 1942, oil on canvas, 54 x 40", Collection of the Art Institute of Chicago.

Siskind frequently visited Gottlieb during his many summers spent in Gloucester, Massachusettes and they remained close friends until Siskind moved to Chicago in 1951.

Aaron Siskind, Gloucester Rocks 3, 1944, Gelatin silver print, © Aaron Siskind Foundation, Philadelphia Museum of Art.

From the Archive: Adolph Gottlieb and Milton Avery

"Avery's last works were as fresh as though he were a young painter and of course, they also had the authority of an old master. Avery is one of the few great painters of our time."
–Adolph Gottlieb

"At first Adolph painted moody landscapes; then he went on to bolder, simpler statements, his color becoming clearer and more melodious... for me, this has been exciting to watch."
–Milton Avery

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb (left) and Milton Avery (right) in Three Bridges, NJ, Summer 1936.

Adolph Gottlieb first met Milton Avery (1885–1965) in 1929 while showing at Opportunity Gallery on 56th Street in New York City, and the two became close and supportive friends. During the 1930s Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko would frequent Milton and Sally Avery's Upper West Side studio. They would also spend occasional summers together in Three Bridges, NJ, Gloucester, MA, and southern Vermont. As Gottlieb stated, "...in the early '30s, I began to be influenced by Milton Avery. In 1932 I got married and we went up to Rockport for the summer. The Averys were there and we used to see an awful lot of them. He was a good 10 years older than I and at that point, the difference meant quite a bit...while he was painting a lot of portraits of his wife, I painted my wife. We'd paint scenes of Gloucester Harbor. I got into the habit of working the way he did but that was sort of natural for me because I had always worked from sketches. We'd go out and make sketches of Gloucester Harbor or people on the beach up in Gloucester and then go home and paint them." 

Gottlieb and Avery's life-long friendship and mutual support for each other's work are documented below through interviews, correspondence, and artwork.

Shown: (left) Milton Avery, Self Portrait, 1941, oil on canvas, 54 x 34", Neuberger Museum of Art, Purchase College, State University of New York, Milton Avery Trust. (right) Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Self Portrait in Mirror), c. 1938, oil on canvas, 39 7/8 x 29 5/8"

“I have always thought he [Avery] was a great artist. When Social Realism and the American Scene were considered the important thing, he took an aesthetic stand opposed to regional subject matter. I shared his point of view; and since he was ten years my senior and an artist I respected, his attitude helped reinforce me in my chosen direction. I always regarded him as a brilliant colorist and draftsman, a solitary figure working against the stream.” 
–Adolph Gottlieb quoted in The New York Post after Avery's death by Charlotte Willard, ''In the Art Galleries'', January 10, 1965

CORRESPONDENCE

Both Gottlieb and Avery celebrated each other's successes throughout their careers. Below you will find select correspondence and statements from both artists concerning several important life events. Their friendship lasted until Avery's death in 1965.

Shown: A letter from Milton Avery to Gottlieb in 1962 after Gottlieb suffered a heart attack, December 1962.

A letter from Milton Avery to Director Martin Friedman about Gottlieb's exhibition at The Walker Art Center, January 28, 1963.

A letter from Milton and Sally Avery to Adolph and Esther Gottlieb congratulating them on Gottlieb's exhibition at The Walker Art Center, May 24, 1963.

A letter from Adolph Gottlieb to Adelyn Breeskin of the Baltimore Museum of Art including a statement on Avery's work to include in a publication, September 25, 1959

Adolph Gottlieb's statement on Avery sent to Jack Fader of Gallery Reese Palley to include in the forward for the catalogue for their Milton Avery retrospective, May 29, 1968.

ARTISTIC INFLUENCE

Shown: (left) Milton Avery, Portrait of Adolph Gottlieb, pencil on paper, 11 x 18 1/2", Milton Avery Trust. (right) Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Sketch of Milton Avery), c. 1932, conte crayon on paper, 11 3/4 x 9"

"They [Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko] were about ten years younger than Milton, but they all respected him a great deal and they used to hang around, as we'd say. You know, in the City, Rothko lived across the street from us and he'd be at our house almost every night. And Gottlieb would come in very often. And, you know, they'd bring their girlfriends and finally, they'd bring their wives when they had them and it was like a close-knit family. We were very close. And they used to bring their friends to show them what Milton was doing.
And I know how Baumbach says he remembers when Adolph Gottlieb took him up to show him Milton's work. And David Smith was in that group. It was nice and we were always together a lot. We were always having a lot of parties together and things like that."
–Sally Avery in an interview with Dorothy Seckler, November 3, 1967

Shown: (left) Milton Avery, Studious Sketcher, 1944-45, oil on canvas, 36 x 28", Cleveland Museum of Art, Milton Avery Trust. (right) Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Esther at Easel), c. 1937, oil on canvas, 40 x 36 1/8"

"Then we all went to Gloucester, I remember and everybody would work during the daytime and the evenings would be spent looking over the work people had done that day. They were all very anxious to see what Milton had done. Because Milton would do three or four watercolors a day and you know, with three or four watercolors every day you get a lot of ideas. But it was nice. And we'd play beach tennis and it was really, considering that - you know, we never drank, no one ever had a beer because we were very poor and at night time we'd sit around and have tea and crackers and just discuss painting. It was a really sort of dedicated time."
–Sally Avery in an interview with Dorothy Seckler, November 3, 1967

Shown: (left) Milton Avery, Artist and Model, c. 1939, oil on canvas, 38 x 50", Addison Gallery of American Art, Phillips Academy, Milton Avery Trust. (right) Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Artist and Model), 1934, oil on canvas, 31 3/4 x 24 7/8"

After returning from Arizona in 1939, “Gottlieb resumed his life in New York, but things had changed. He was no longer Avery’s young admirer, but an artist with ideas of his own. Although Avery disapproved, he continued to be interested in Surrealism - especially the art of Dali…he knew that Verist Surrealism contradicted the painterly tradition Avery stood for and to which he belonged, but he understood that to oppose Avery was the only way to find himself."
–Mary MacNaughton in "Adolph Gottlieb: His Life and Art", 1981

"I have changed my mind about an idea of Milton's -- as he says, "don't try to paint a masterpiece." It seems to me now that that is the very thing to do -- try to make a masterpiece -- it probably won't be one anyway. Of course, from his point of view, Milton's right, there are many pictures that would be pretty good if they were not belabored and worked to death in trying for perfection. But right now I am sick of all the pretty good pictures and want a picture that is either damn good or no good."
–Adolph Gottlieb (in Tuscon, Arizona) in a letter to Harold Baumbach, January 18, 1938

"But then when we went to Arizona, I think Adolph had an opportunity to not be so much involved with Milton and Milton’s point of view. Not that Milton spoke very much but I mean just the aura of being with him and he was working so quickly... then from there, having drifted away from Avery, and Mark [Rothko] had also drifted away from the influence of Avery, I think they were also influenced by the fact that as a reaction to American scene painting, they were searching for some new subject matter."
–Esther Gottlieb in an interview with Phyllis Tuchman, 1981

Shown: (left) Milton Avery, Black Night, 1959, oil on canvas, 52 x 34", Milton Avery Trust. (right) Adolph Gottlieb, Under and Over, 1959, oil on canvas, 96 x 48"

"Though we do not see the Gottliebs as frequently now, we still maintain a warm relationship and deep friendship."
–Milton Avery in a letter to Martin Friedman, January 1963. 

"My feeling is that Avery is sort of the American Matisse. He has a terrific flair for that sort of color."
–Adolph Gottlieb in an interview with Martin Friedman, August 1962

Milton Avery, Tangerine Moon and Wine Dark Sea, 1959, oil on canvas, 60 x 72", Milton Avery Trust.

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb, Hot Horizon, 1956, oil on canvas, 50 x 72", Yale University Art Gallery.

A Closer Look: Adolph Gottlieb's Stained Glass Façade of the Milton Steinberg House

Detailed photograph of the interior of the Rabbi's office, c. 1954.

In 1953, Adolph Gottlieb was commissioned by the architectural firm of Kelly and Gruzen to design the stained-glass exterior of the Milton Steinberg House which served as a community center and offices for the Park Avenue Synagogue. The final free-standing façade consisted of 91 stained-glass panels covering an area of over 1300 square feet. This glass "wall" spanned five stories making it the largest single work by an Abstract Expressionist artist. Gottlieb spent the better part of two years planning and carefully overseeing the production of his designs. 

From the Foundation's archives, we have gathered photographs, works on paper, interviews, and ephemera from the creation of the Milton Steinberg House stained-glass. This was one of four significant architectural collaborations in Gottlieb's career.

Adolph Gottlieb, Proposal for Steinberg House, c. 1953, gouache and pencil on presentation board, image size = 39 1/2 x 26"

Adolph Gottlieb, Proposal For Steinberg House, c. 1953, ink, pencil, gouache, and metallic paint on presentation board, image size = 36 1/2 x 21 3/4, board size= 36 1/2 x 28”

Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Proposal for the Steinberg House Windows), c. 1953, gouache and ink on illustration board, 29 7/8 x 20" 

Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Study for Steinberg House Windows), c.1953, ink, pencil, and gouache on presentation board, image size = 11 3/16 x 28”

Gottlieb made numerous proposals and studies for the windows on paper and in stained glass. Working closely with stained-glass makers Heinigke and Smith to manufacture these designs, the "finest imported and domestic antique glass" was used in the final window panels.

Adolph Gottlieb in his studio with drawings for the Steinberg House façade, c.1953-1954

Adolph Gottlieb in his Provincetown studio with studies for the Milton Steinberg House, Summer 1953. Photographer: Maurice Berezov.

Adolph Gottlieb in his Provincetown studio with studies for the Milton Steinberg House, Summer 1953. Photographer: Maurice Berezov.

"As a painter, I am fascinated by the luminous brilliance of stained glass. Working with glass is entirely different than paint because with every change in the intensity of light the color and the character of the glass changes. Not only is it different on a gray day than on a bright sunny day, but when there are clouds in the sky as the clouds move the glass is continually changing as one stands watching. So one is not dealing with color which is fixed and precise as in paint, but with colored light that is constantly changing and has its own moods." 
–Adolph Gottlieb in a Q & A on the Steinberg House, 1954

Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Study for Steinberg House Windows), c. 1953, ink, crayon, gouache, and pencil on paper, 5 1/2 x 17”

Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Study for Steinberg House Windows), c. 1953, pencil, ink, and watercolor on paper, 5 1/2 x 17"

Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Study for Steinberg House Windows), c. 1953, pencil, ink, and watercolor on paper, 5 1/2 x 17” 

Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Study for Steinberg House Windows), c. 1953, pencil, ink, and watercolor on paper, 5 1/2 x 17”

Adolph Gottlieb and Otto Heinigke from Heinigke & Smith looking over templates for Steinberg House façade windows, c. 1953.

Adolph Gottlieb at Heinigke & Smith looking over templates for Steinberg House façade windows, c. 1953.

Adolph Gottlieb in the studio at Heinigke & Smith inspecting stained glass for Steinberg House façade, c. 1953-1954.

Adolph Gottlieb in the studio at Heinigke & Smith with stained glass artisans working on Steinberg House façade. Photo taken for Life Magazine, c. 1953-1954. 

The Milton Steinberg House was unveiled on September 19, 1954, after two years of collaborative efforts between the building's architects, Heinigke and Smith, and Adolph Gottlieb.

"Working with architects has added enormously to my education. On each job so far I have been required to work at very short notice in an entirely unfamiliar material. I am now at the point where I feel that I can handle any material, at least with competence, I have learned that it is possible to get craftsmen to execute my designs with exactitude, providing I supervise them closely enough; and now realize that architects will go along with any design that handles specific problems intelligently and on a rational basis."
–Adolph Gottlieb in a Q & A on the Steinberg House, 1954

Program for Milton Steinberg House Dedication, September 19, 1954.

Adolph Gottlieb's notes preparing for a Q & A talk on the Steinberg House façade, 1954.

Adolph Gottlieb's notes preparing for a Q & A talk on the Steinberg House façade, 1954.

Photographs of the completed Milton Steinberg House façade, c. 1954.

The finished façade consisted of 91 individual panels installed in a repeat pattern that Gottlieb carefully devised. Unfortunately, this unique structure was dismantled in 1980. However, individual panels of the glass still exist and some are in use as clear-story windows in the current building adjacent to the Park Avenue Synagogue at 87th Street and Madison Avenue.

A Closer Look: Adolph Gottlieb's Partisan Review Cover

Shown: (left) The final Partisan Review cover published in 1970, Volume 37, Number 1.
(right) An uncropped printer’s proof of the cover and spine.

Adolph Gottlieb was a lifelong advocate for artists' involvement in contemporary culture and reader of Partisan Review. In 1969, after his joint solo exhibition at the Solomon R. Guggenheim and the Whitney museums, Gottlieb was asked to design the cover of a 1970 issue of Partisan Review. Founded in 1934, Partisan Review was one of the most significant cultural literary journals in the United States. The Review's editors William Phillips, Philip Rahv, and Edith Kurzweil provided a vital space for the publication of creative essays, commentary, book reviews, and book excerpts.

In its sixty-nine-year history, the journal published the work of such luminaries as James Baldwin, Samuel Beckett, Allen Ginsberg, Franz Kafka, Doris Lessing, George Orwell, and Susan Sontag. 

Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Study for Partisan Review Cover), 1969, gouache on paper,  7 15/16 x 5 3/8 inches.

The journal also referenced and reviewed Adolph Gottlieb's artwork, including Clement Greenberg's 1955 article titled "American-Type" Painting. Greenberg was a major contributor to the publication having contributed over 30 articles to the Review from 1939 to 1981.

"Over the years, in a characteristically sober way, Gottlieb has made himself one of the surest craftsmen in contemporary painting: one who can, for instance, place a flat and irregular silhouette, that most difficult of all shapes to adjust in isolation to the rectangle, with a force and rightness no other living painter seems capable of." 
–Clement Greenberg, an excerpt from"American-Type" Painting in Partisan Review, 1955, Vol. 22, No. 2

Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Study for Partisan Review Cover), 1969, gouache and acrylic on paper, mounted on canvasboard, 7 15/16 x 5 3/8 inches.

While designing the 1970 cover, Gottlieb made 3 studies on paper before finalizing the cover design featuring an irregular red disc above an asterisk. It is interesting to note that Gottlieb painted some of these studies on the pages of previous issues of Partisan Review as a shortcut to visualizing the correct scale. Hence, the text is visible under the paint in some of the studies creating a collage effect.

Adolph Gottlieb, Untitled (Study for Partisan Review Cover), 1969, gouache on paper, 9 x 6 inches.

You can read and view all the issues of the journal online, including the issue with the Gottlieb cover: 1970 Vol. 37 No.1.

Installation photos of “Adolph Gottlieb: Small Images Spanning Four Decades 1938–1973” at Manny Silverman Gallery, April 1995. Three untitled studies for the cover of Partisan Review (all 1969). 

From the Archive: Photos of Adolph and Esther Gottlieb Throughout the Years

Shown: Adolph and Esther Gottlieb in Provincetown, 1952. Photographer: Maurice Berezov.

"I first met Adolph in the Village, which is where you met people at that time. We met through friends at a party."
- Esther Gottlieb in an interview in 1976

Adolph Gottlieb and Esther Dick were married on June 12, 1932, and they worked in tandem throughout their lives. We invite you to explore some of their moments together during their lifetimes through photographs found in our archives. 

(left) Adolph and Esther Gottlieb with their dog Mickey at Brooklyn Pier, c. mid-1930s.
(right) Adolph Gottlieb and Esther Gottlieb on the roof of a building in New York, NY, September 1932.

(left) Adolph and Esther Gottlieb with Mickey the dog in Three Bridges, NJ, Summer 1936.
(right) Adolph and Esther Gottlieb in Gloucester, MA, 1940s.

Adolph and Esther Gottlieb sailing off Cape Ann, c. 1934.

(left) Adolph Gottlieb and Esther Gottlieb on the beach in Gloucester, MA, c. 1943.
(right) Adolph and Esther Gottlieb on the beach in Gloucester, MA, c. 1943.

Adolph and Esther Gottlieb sailing in Provincetown, 1952, Contact sheet. Photographer: Maurice Berezov. 

(left) Adolph and Esther Gottlieb at 23rd Street Studio, 1959. Photographer: Marvin P. Lazarus.
(right) Adolph and Esther Gottlieb in Provincetown on Labor Day, September 7, 1959.

Adolph and Esther Gottlieb in the foyer of their East Hampton home, c. 1964-1966. Photographer: John F. Waggaman.

Adolph and Esther Gottlieb in East Hampton, 1960.

(left) Adolph and Esther Gottlieb with Clement and Janice Greenberg at André Emmerich Gallery opening of “Adolph Gottlieb: New Work”, January 2, 1958. 
(right) Adolph and Esther Gottlieb at São Paulo Bienal opening, September 1963.

(left) Adolph and Esther Gottlieb at 380 W. Broadway in front of Units #4 (1966), February 1972. Photographer: Bud Waintrob.
(right) Adolph and Esther Gottlieb at 380 W. Broadway in front of Units #4 (1966), February 1972. Photographer: Bud Waintrob.

Adolph and Esther Gottlieb in the East Hampton studio with Roman III #3 and Burst 1973 (both 1973), Summer 1973.

From the Archive: Martin Friedman and Adolph Gottlieb

Shown: Martin Friedman standing in front of Trio (1960) by Adolph Gottlieb.

Adolph Gottlieb: Recent Paintings at The Walker Art Center in 1963

In 1963, Martin Friedman, Director of the Walker Art Center, organized an exhibition of Adolph Gottlieb's recent work at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis, Minnesota. The organization of this exhibition began a long friendship and working relationship between Friedman and Gottlieb. Below is a selection of archival material to document their relationship and the 1963 exhibition.

Shown: A letter to Adolph Gottlieb from Martin Friedman outlining the plans for the 1963 exhibition of Gottlieb's work, June 18, 1962.

An Interview with Adolph Gottlieb in August 1962: 

In order to write and research his catalogue essay, Friedman arranged to interview Gottlieb in August 1962. Taking place over several days in Gottlieb's East Hampton home, Friedman conducted and recorded the interview. They discussed many topics from contemporary American painting to art-historical inspiration and the transition of Adolph's work throughout his career. This interview not only became the basis for Friedman's essay, but serves as a very thorough and deep look into Gottlieb's practice. Below are some excerpts from this interview conducted from August 10–13, 1962.

Gottlieb in the Early Years:
"I liked Parsons School of Design because my family felt that if I wanted to be an artist I should have some means of supporting myself and this was supposed to be some sort of a normal course to prepare me for teaching. But, I didn't finish because I didn't really want to teach. And, at a much later date, I reconsidered the matter and thought that perhaps I should after all go into teaching because I had, really, no source for earning my living; and I took the exam for teaching art in high school. And I passed the written part but I failed the drawing part, so I decided the hell with it, and never bothered again."

"I spent most of my time in Europe looking at paintings, looking at galleries, museums, and so forth. I did a bit of drawing and painting and sketch classes, but I had no formal instruction. At the Grande Chaumiere, there were sketch classes or you could paint from the model with or without instruction. I didn't take the instruction. I don't know why I did it –whatever the reasons were I don't recall, but in looking back on it I feel rather good about it because it was a period of absorption and it wasn't so necessary for me to learn the mechanics of painting or to learn any tricks."

Gottlieb on Pictographs:
"I felt that the symbols and images were private property and that the juxtaposition was in a sense quite arbitrary or at random or did occur by chance; and that this would then have to be seen as a total painting. You could begin at any point and look in every direction and keep going back and forth and every which way."

“The original notion that I had and the way I arrived at the pictograph stemmed from my great fondness for early Italian paintings in the 13th and 14th centuries. Altarpieces in which the life of Christ would be depicted in a series of sequences would be chronological– starting with the birth of Christ and going through his life to the resurrection, and this was somewhat of a comic strip technique– it was anecdotal and it was chronological."

Gottlieb on His Later Paintings:
"In the pictographs, the rectilinear areas, the divisions are somewhat arbitrary; they are not compositions in the traditional sense. By the same token, the framework of the imaginary landscape is also arbitrary. It starts out on the premise that I will divide the canvas into two areas. Then I also retain, as in the pictograph, interest in disparate shapes and finding some resolution for this disparity. I also have disparate shapes in the imaginary landscape. In other words, the shapes above are rounded and circular; the shapes below are linear and interlocking." 

"In my recent work, I have rather calm, round shapes above and then a jagged space below.  Well, there's no reason why these should be juxtaposed, except that it interests me to juxtapose things that are so different and are unrelated and I have to find some way of establishing relationships and bringing them together. I think that this sort of thinking took place in the pictograph, except in the pictograph, it wasn't boiled down as much to these two elements, or three elements. There were a great many elements involved there and it was this process of relating the unrelated wasn't pinpointed and spotlighted in the same way as in the more recent paintings."

Gottlieb on Color:
"I feel that I use color in terms of an emotional quality –there seems to be an emotional quality that color offers us– a vehicle for the expression of feeling. Now what this feeling is something I probably can't define, but since I eliminated almost everything from my painting except a few colors and perhaps two or three shapes, I feel a necessity for making the particular colors that I use, or the particular shapes, carry the burden of everything that I want to express, and all has to be concentrated within these few elements. Therefore, the color has to carry the burden of this effort."

"One of the characteristics of great colorists like Titian is that they use very few colors. You can count the colors - very few. The worst colorists, to my mind, use all the colors it is possible to buy. I think by the same token the artists we consider great draftsmen also use just a few simple forms. I think the worst art is that which overextends itself. Instead of exploring a simple thing profoundly, it covers a vast territory in a superficial way. It's partly modesty that I limit myself and also partly I feel I can go a lot further by exploring and by limiting the area I limit I explore and concentrate in - pinpointing and focusing on the particular thing I'm interested in, whether it's a shape or a color and I think this produces the best results, so I use this method."

Gottlieb on Other Artists:
"I did a few paintings which were surrealist in the sense of being magic-realist which is perhaps a more popular notion of surrealism. I did very few of those– I didn't want to go in that direction because the concept was too derivative, that the notion was straight out of surrealism, and I didn't really want to be a surrealist any more than I wanted to be a figurist. However, I felt an affinity, I felt a certain stimulus from the surrealists' point of view. I very much admired Masson, Miro, I liked the early Dali, I liked Max Ernst."

"I think that traditionally artists have worked in what is considered to be one style throughout their lives. You can trace the development of a painter like Cezanne, for example, even though it's accepted that he was influenced by Courbet in his youth and also by Delacroix. I know that in his less mature work, he consistently worked in one style based upon an impressionist type of painting. He developed a kind of post-impressionist style in which he is identified. I think that this long-established precedent was broken by Picasso.

Adolph Gottlieb: Recent Paintings Opens in April 1963:

Adolph Gottlieb: Recent Paintings opened at the Walker Art Center in April of 1963 and was accompanied by an exhibition catalogue with a forward and essay by Friedman. Drawn from the conversation he had with Gottlieb the summer prior, Friedman wrote a highly detailed ten-page essay.

Shown: An invitation to the opening preview of the exhibition at the Walker Art Center, April 27, 1963.

Adolph Gottlieb: Recent Paintings opening, Walker Art Center April 28, 1963. Photos by Earl Chambers, Minneapolis, MN. Artwork pictured clockwise from top left: Red, Black, Gray. 1957, Exclamation, 1958, Trio 1960, Blue at Night, 1960, Aureole, 1959.

Shown: The title page of the exhibition's catalogue.

"Gottlieb's art is one of revelation rather than exposition, and his painting gives form to the tenuous. He has consistently taken risks and abandoned successful ideas in order to break through to new and more vital ones. Through the assertion of a few elemental forms throughout a long series of paintings, Gottlieb has achieved an expansive freedom. He has never permitted his painting to rest. It is imbued with tension and tendency." 
–Martin Friedman in the exhibition's catalogue essay
 
"Dualism is the pervasive theme of Gottlieb's art, and his painting is the eloquent resolution of conflicting forces and emotions. Now he has arrived at a dispassionate worldview, dispassionate because through form and color he envisages a universe in which human emotions are fused with rudimentary physical principles–gravity, suspension, motion. In recent paintings, Gottlieb has limited himself to a few powerful forms, nuclei suspended in tension."
–Martin Friedman in the exhibition's catalogue essay

In September of 1963, the exhibition traveled to the VII São Paulo Bienal, where it was installed at the American Section of the VII Bienal do Arte Moderna. At the Bienal, Gottlieb was awarded the Grande Prêmio prize, becoming the first American artist to receive the distinguished award. You can read more about Gottlieb at the Bienal here.

Martin Friedman and the Gottliebs:

Martin Friedman and his wife Mildred (Mickey) formed a very good friendship with the Gottliebs which extended into their traveling along with them to São Paulo. They were personally gifted the painting Bastille Day (1961) from the Gottliebs as a thank-you for the organization of the Walker Art Center exhibition and their futher support of the São Paulo Bienal show. Below are their notes of appreciation. Below are their notes of appreciation. 

"Everyone who visits us is knocked out by the beauty of the painting and reactions run from amazement to sheer envy -- why not?" - Martin Friedman

"I want to tell you how much "Bastille Day" has brightened our days..." - Mickey Friedman

Shown: Photo of Bastille Day (1961) at collector Martin Friedman’s home, 1964.

Shown: Color image of Bastille Day, 1961, oil on canvas, 48 x 72 inches.

Shown: A thank you letter to Adolph Gottlieb from Martin Friedman for his gift of Bastille Day (1961), December 6, 1963.

Shown: A thank you letter from Mildred Friedman to the Gottliebs emphasizing their love of Bastille Day (1961), December 29, 1963.

Correspondence Throughout the Years: 

Martin Friedman's admiration for Gottlieb's work continued through Adolph's lifetime and after the artist's death in 1974. Friedman continued his support of Gottlieb's work through the years and strove to increase the Walker Art Center's holdings of Gottlieb's work during his tenure as director.

Shown: A postcard to the Gottliebs from Martin Friedman, June 24, 1964.

In the above postcard, Martin Friedman writes of his travels in Europe and the new postcards of the Walker Art Center's best paintings that include the one he sends to Adolph and Esther of Trio (1960). 

Shown: A condolence letter from Martin Friedman to Esther Gottlieb after Adolph's death, March 20, 1974.

Shown: A letter to Esther Gottlieb from Martin Friedman, February 14, 1981.

"Adolph raised my sights artistically and helped me to understand not only his art but that of his particularly gifted generation. The experience of working with him remains a happy part of our lives."
–Martin Friedman in a condolence letter to Esther Gottlieb, March 1974

"Although there has been a lapse in our communication, there has never been one in my admiration for Adolph Gottlieb's accomplishments as a major American artist. In the long view, those accomplishments are what we want to recognize by adding some key works to the two fine Gottlieb paintings in our permanent collection, "Trio" and "Blue at Noon."
–Martin Friedman in a letter to Esther Gottlieb, February 1981

Shown: Trio, 1960, oil on canvas, 60 x 90, Walker Art Center

From the Archive: A Conversation Between Adolph Gottlieb and Jack Breckenridge

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb at 380 W. Broadway, January 7, 1973. Photographer: Budd Studio

In the Spring of 1973, Adolph Gottlieb was invited to speak to art students at the University of Arizona by Jack Breckenridge. The general topic of the event considered "The Shift of the Art Capital From Paris to New York in the 1940s.” The presentation began with a slideshow of Gottlieb's work which the artist asked not to be narrated. After the slides concluded, a question-and-answer segment followed.

In 1978, the transcript of the interview was published by Jack Breckenridge in Phoebus 2: A Journal of Art History along with two illustrations of Adolph Gottlieb's artwork (Recurrent Apparition from 1946 and Burma Red a work Gottlieb painted in Phoenix from 1973). These paintings were chosen to represent Gottlieb's "general observation
about a change that took place in his work in the early 1950s" in the published interview.

In 2003, the Gottlieb Foundation was fortunate enough to interview Jack Breckenridge by phone where he recalled Gottlieb as "entirely likable and quick-witted" Despite Gottlieb's physical limitations, due to a stroke that the artist suffered a couple of years prior, leaving him confined to a wheelchair and his left side paralyzed, Breckenridge recalled him as energized by the students and after the 2-hour event was still able to judge a student art show. As Breckenridge recalls in Phoebus "his mind was very quick and his sallies in answer to questions often brought forth quick laughter and applause from the nearly three hundred people in the audience."

The interview's transcript is reproduced in its entirety below along with other archival documents referenced in or surrounding the interview.

Adolph Gottlieb (AG): There is something I would like to get across to you – it has to do with the different atmosphere and when I was young – as you may know, during the Forties most of us in New York were doing all-over painting. There was something in the air that made us do that. I don’t know how to explain it, but we felt that was the way painting was going. It was all-over, there was no beginning and no end. I decided that I was tired of the paintings which were endless: which were all-over paintings. I decided that I would try to make paintings which had a focal point very much the way a portrait had. All of the paintings that were done after the Forties have that characteristic and I still retain that. As you can see there is a very defined focal point.
            I must say that I am not prepared to make a lecture in the usual sense that we are accustomed to. I don’t have the pedagogical approach. I think it is my prerogative as an old man to reminisce and go back to early days. I’ll have a lot of loose ends which I hope will tie together. I think that you will find that they will tie together. I’ll just go back to when I went to Europe for the first time in 1921. I worked my way over on the ship and had a lot of adventures which are another story. I eventually got to Paris and I did very little painting. I was going to the Grand Chaumiere to a sketch class where I did sketches from life. While the instructor was supposed to be Lucien Simon, I never saw Mr. Simon. I just went and worked on my own. And I did something that was more useful, I went to the Louvre almost every day. I certainly went there every other day. I knew the Louvre very well. I could go in there and find my way to any painting that I was interested in seeing. I think this was the best experience that I could possibly have had because I think that the real university for any young artist is the museum which has a rich collection. I think it is much better to study with Poussin than study with Gottlieb. So you see in a sense I am very modest. At any rate, what I wanted to say was that those days were the days of the expatriates like Hemingway and others and it was considered to be very important to go to Europe for an America artist. American art at that point was – well, it was very much behind – about twenty-five years behind European art. The European Impressionists were about twenty-five years ahead of the American Impressionists. In fact, at that time American artists were waiting for the latest copy of Cahiers d’Art to see what was happening in Europe and that gave them a cue as to how to proceed. So I went to Europe and the best thing was the museum.

Jack Brekenridge (JB): What would you say to the young student who wishes to train himself today?
AG: Today I would say that he should go to New York and haunt the Metropolitan and other museums.
JB: And not worry about the Art Students’ League?
AG: No, I don’t think the Art Students’ League would do him much good.
JB: You talked to me the other day about the importance of the shift of the art capital from Paris to New York.
AG: Well, I am very interested in that. I’ll explain it to you. When I went to Paris and I lived in Europe for awhile I became a Francophile. There are many great French artists whom I admired so much that they impressed me for my whole life – older artists like Ingres, Delacroix, and Courbet. When I came back to New York I found there was a very deeply ingrained provincialism in the United States which seemed to stem from the Midwest and with it came a great deal of Midwestern painting that I thought was very bad. I’m talking about Benton, Grant Wood, John Steuart Curry. I think that, in a way, they created a vacuum into which the next generation could step.
JB: By being so bad?
AG: That’s right – and I think that I should tell you that in the Forties there was a lot of talk among New York artists as to whether New York was going to be the art capital of the world. As a personal reminiscence my wife and I used to go to Provincetown in the summers in those days and in the summer of 1949 between my wife and myself and a friend of ours named Weldon Kees, who was a very sensitive poet and painter, and Fritz Bultman, who was painter and sculptor, we started something called Forum Forty-Nine. In the course of the summer we had a number of interesting exhibits and forums. The forums and exhibits took place in an old, no-longer-used post office that we got the use of.  Each of us took turns in organizing something and my turn came up, so I organized a forum called “French Art versus American Art”. This created quite a bit of dissension. We didn’t have any exhibit of French art, we had a discussion. We did show the American artists who were in Provincetown at the time. We invited a number of distinguished people to this forum, among them were Stuart Preston of the New York Times and Fred Wight, who now, I think, heads the art department at UCLA. Before the forum started there were a group of dissidents including Hans Hofmann and Fritz Bultman who wanted to hand out a mimeographed flyer to people who were coming in. So we said to them, “Don’t hand it out, we’ll give it to everyone who buys a ticket.” The flyer read something to the effect that “…we are objecting to this program because we consider Paris the city of light and culture and light and culture have emanated from it for the past hundred years or more, so we are in disagreement with this topic.” We then handed it out to everybody. After the forum there was a party at someone’s house. While we were at the party, I went over to Hofmann. I said, “Hans what did you really object to about this forum? Now that you’ve heard it don’t you think that it was all right?  It was an interesting discussion.” He said, “Well, I’ll tell you Adolph, you should have French art first.” I asked, “Why?” He replied, “Because French art is better than American art.” So I said, “We did say ‘French Art versus American’.” He said, “Well, then it’s all right.”
JB: Then, there was evidence in your mind, by 1949 that…
AG: Oh, by 1949 we were afraid that we were being too chauvinistic about American art. So the question came up, were we right in being too chauvinistic? I took the position that we were entitled to it because as I saw it – well, I’ll give you an example of what I mean. I was in the Kootz Gallery one time and I was in this back private viewing room. This was in the middle Forties or late Forties. Kootz had just been to Paris and had brought back one of the latest paintings of a young Parisian painter. To show it to this collector, he put it on a chair. Then the collector, to look at it more closely got down and looked at it very closely, in fact, his knee touched the floor and I thought it was very symbolic – down on his knees before a French painting, because it was French. He would never had done that for a new American painting. At that point I decided that chauvinism was good for us.
JB: What do you think that this had meant to younger artists?
AG: I think that it has given great freedom. As an example of what I mean, I was on a broadcast with a British critic – the broadcast was supposed to be for the BBC – and I made a point about this. I was discussing this business about American art in relation to European art and the ways it had been subservient to it. I said that France was like a colonial power in art and that we were the colonists; and that in the 1940s American artists took the tea and dumped it overboard and had their Declaration of Independence. I was curious to see how this would go over with the British. I later saw a transcript and they cut that out. I think the situation got reversed and America became the colonial power artistically. The Japanese and many others, including the French, became our subjects.
JB: Let’s talk about the WPA. You worked for a time for the WPA?
AG: I did, yes. I think it was $23.50 a week.
JB: A lot of people have said that this was a kind of apprenticeship for young artists of that time.
AG: I think the value of the WPA is vastly exaggerated.
JB: What do you think, then, of government support of the arts?
AG: I think it is very dangerous. It has a tendency to try to influence the artist. Just like dealers try to influence artists.
JB: Have they tried to influence you?
AG: Yes. Oh sure. Either to maintain a style or to get certain qualities that they like or that they think are saleable.
JB: Do you believe that the dealer system is a bad system?
AG: No, I think that it is the best system that we have.
JB: Then you don’t agree with the dissatisfied younger artists in New York. There are a number of dissatisfied young artists – 
AG: Oh, yes, but in many cases it is a matter of sour grapes. They can’t seem to adapt to the dealer system so they want to abolish it.
JB: How do younger painters go about breaking into the system?
AG: They have to make a little name for themselves among the New York artists. To be there, to be in group shows, and be part of the give and take.
JB: Then someone is not going to walk in from off the streets and knock the dealer dead with his work?
AG: No, that’s very hard. The dealers are very jaded. They have so many artists come in everyday and show them work. They can assume before hand that it will be no good.
JB: We talked earlier about the “give and take” among artist, were you talking about something like that which went on in the Club in the late 1940s?
AG: Like the Club – where artists would express their views about what a painting should be and what it is, and others could attack.
JB: Where did you meet?
AG: We met in an empty loft on Eight Street. Sometimes we would visit in other artists’ studios and say whatever we thought.
JB: You just spoke right out?
AG: Well, we were friends.
JB: Do you still have a close association with many of those artists today?
AG: I don’t. Most of us sort of outgrew this.
JB: There has been a good deal of talk about the influence in New York in the Forties of Europeans who arrived because of the war. People like Leger, Mondrian, Lipshitz, and others.
AG: Yes, I met a number of them.
JB: Do you feel that they exerted any kind of influence on American art or do you think that things had already been solidified by that time?
AG: I think that by that time Surrealism was a definite influence on American art because the work was being shown in New York by various dealers. Then when the artists came over that showed us that they were just people like we were.
JB: Do you feel that there was an impact of Surrealism on your work during this period?
AG: Yes, I think so – definitely. There was a gallery in New York called Gallery Sixty-Seven. It had a show called “A Problem for Critics.” It included my work, Pollock’s, Rothko’s, Hofmann’s, and a number of others. The problem was how to characterize this work. Most of it had Surrealist influence. A lot of it had Cubist influence. I felt that the work we all were doing was kind of a merger of both – Surrealism and abstraction.

Shown: An announcement of the opening of "A Problem for Critics" shown at 67 Gallery, New York in 1945.

JB: Were you people interested in the abstraction of George L.K. Morris and the people in the American Abstract Artists group? Did you have much contact with them?
AG: No. Well, they were friendly. Actually what happened, as I see it, was that the American Abstract group was very dogmatic about their idea of abstraction. If anybody had any figurative tendency at all his work was taboo. At that point, I, and a lot of other artists, didn’t share that view.
JB: You didn’t agree with the Metropolitan Museum, I believe, in 1950 when the eighteen of you – 
AG: That’s right. That was the Pepsi-Cola show. The objection was that there were two local jurors in all parts of the country which would make it regional. I think part of our viewpoint was against regional art which was one of the big phases of American art. We felt that regional art provincial and retrogressive.
JB: What you called the “Corn-Belt Academy” in your letter to the New York Times in 1943?
AG: That’s right. I’d forgotten about that.
JB: You wrote in Tiger’s Eye in 1947 about your art being “…the expression of the neurosis which is reality.” That sounds parallel to Surrealist concerns. What do you think of this in terms of your art today?
AG:Well, I think it has a relationship. You see, I was very much interested, as a lot of artists were, in Jung at the time. I accepted the idea of a universal unconscious.
JB: And by working in this kind of imagery you were getting to this universal unconscious by speaking a kind of common language. Yet, don’t I understand that you feel you are really not trying to paint for the masses?
AG: Good lord, no. Just the reverse. You know what Gorky called Social Realism at the time? He called it poor art for poor people.
JB: (Reading a question submitted in advance) “How essential is it to the livelihood of the artist for his imagery to be recognizably his own and do you feel this degree of sameness is a compromise to maintain a level of success?”
AG: That’s a very good question. Every day an artist has to examine his feelings and ask himself if this is what he really wants. It becomes more difficult if you are successful because you might be doing something to satisfy a demand; a market that’s been created. Or you might be doing just the opposite to be perverse. I have a great deal of perversity in me, so I always have to question it. I assume that this is true of lots of artists. If they weren’t a little perverse in some way they wouldn’t be artists. They would conform to something.
JB: The common question from students submitted to me in advance was, “Who or what had the greatest influence on your work?”
AG: Oh, Cimabue. He has a very forceful image.
JB: (Reading) “In your earlier pictograph paintings even though individual, personal symbols were compartmented, the surface treatment of painting appeared to have an all-over sameness. In later “Blast” pictures a different approach is employed in the execution of the top half of the painting from that used in the bottom half. What is your feeling about the idea, perhaps best exemplified by the color-field painters, that a painting should be all of one piece?

Adolph Gottlieb, Recurrent Apparition, 1946, oil on canvas, 37 x 55 x 1 3/4 inches, Chazen Museum of Art.

AG: That’s a good question. I’ll try to explain it.  When I did the pictograph paintings I was thinking of them as all-over paintings, with no focal point and no beginning – they ran out on all four sides. And I reached a point where I felt that I had enough of all-over painting and that it was a kind of New York mania. I wanted to buck the other painters and all I had been doing, so I reversed myself and decided to make paintings with a definitive focal point, which at the same time would control in some subtle way the space of painting. I think it’s just as simple as that. Just that I decided I might go do a different kind of painting.
JB: In your later works, do you use trowels and other kinds of devices on the bottom part of those paintings where one sees those big strokes?
AG: I work in many ways. I try everything. Miro once said that he tried everything including urinating on the painting. I doubt that he did it.
JB: (Reading) “Many people sincerely feel that Jackson Pollock is the greatest painter of our century. How do you feel about this?
AG: I think that he is vastly over-rated. I think he used to seem to be a violent painter. He now seems to me to be a gentle, lyrical painter, especially in the painting at the Met called “Autumn Rhythm.” It is a very gentle, lyrical painting. And when you met him as a man, if you got him when he was sober, he was very gentle.
From the Floor: In your opinion what should be the function of an art instructor in a university?
AG: I am very much in wonder as to what the function of the instructor is. I don’t think the instructor can make an artist out of someone who isn’t an artist. I think that you are an artist when you start or you’re not. There is no such thing as an art student unless you accept the idea that you are a student all of your life. I don’t think that the university is the good place at all. I think the place to go is to a museum. You have to go and look at Chardin and Courbet and see how they did it. If you don’t have the capacity to learn, nobody can give it to you. Years ago the big question was that everyone was looking for a key or a clue; some sort of formula for making a work of art. Nobody ever found it.
From the Floor: What is your opinion of the art of 1960s: Funk and Junk, Op and Pop, Minimal art and art of the 1970s?
AG: I think that my generation is largely responsible for a lot of it and I feel ashamed for us.
JB: In what way do you feel responsible? 
AG: Anything could be a work of art – almost anything- and the artist was completely free to do anything he chose.
From the Floor: You implied that contrary to painting for the masses, your art was a very personal and private statement. I wonder if that could be extended to invalidate the political and social art forms.
AG: I think the didactic art that the Mexicans tried to do had no value because whatever message they had could have been gotten across to the masses better by television or the movies. The same thing is true in the Soviet Union. Their painters, I believe, convinced very few people.
From the Floor: I wasn’t thinking in terms of “convincing” but rather “commenting.”
AG: Oh, “commenting.” If there is no convincing, what’s the value in the comment?
From the Floor: I wonder if you have ever experimented with polymer or other synthetic paints?
AG: I have used acrylics, that’s all. I think that one of the worst things about contemporary painting is the excessive use of acrylics and masking tapes.
From the Floor: When you say Abstract Expressionists have become a major influence in the world, was the acceptance gradual or overnight – as a group or individually? How did it happen?
AG: It took many years to get acceptance. That put us in the position of being part of the establishment which wasn’t very comfortable.

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb, Burma Red, 1973, oil and alkyd on canvas, 90 x 60 inches.

From the Floor: Can you comment on what the function of critics might be, if any – critics like Greenberg and Rosenberg?
AG: I think people like Greenberg and Rosenberg have a great deal of influence.
From the Floor: Do you think it is all to the good?
AG: Frankly, if they are on my side, I think it is good.
From the Floor: In titling your paintings, how do you come about the wording if, as you say, the subjects are very personal and not able to be understood by using words.
AG: I have a great deal of difficulty with titles. I like them to be ambiguous. I look at the painting and I try to think of what it suggest. I’ll come up with that kind of a title which is ambiguous. It is very generalized and somewhat abstracted.
From the Floor: You were saying that students should go to a museum. Do you mean by this that a serious art student should study the big names and imitate their styles before starting his or her own style?
AG: Yes, the big names. I don’t think they will form their own style until they have done that.
From the Floor: Is it harder for a woman to get established – to get a name? If it is, how much longer will it take?
AG: I think it is harder for a woman especially if she is black.
From the Floor: How long was it before you became self-supporting from your art?
AG: It wasn’t until about the 1950s. There was a parallel question asked by a student when I was teaching at UCLA, “Mr. Gottlieb, about how much do you make a year from your paintings?” I said that is between me and the Treasury Department.

Shown: (left): Questions to be asked in the interview sent to Adolph Gottlieb before the event, March 1973. (right) A condolence letter from Jack Breckenridge sent to Esther Gottlieb after the death of Adolph Gottlieb in March 1974.

Recently Discovered Photographs of Adolph Gottlieb by Robert Estrin

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb at work in his 22nd Street studio, New York, NY, c. 1965, photography ©Robert Estrin

Circa 1965, Adolph Gottlieb was visited by his nephew and photographer Robert Estrin. Estrin captured images of the artist at work in his studio located at 940 Broadway (and 22nd Street) in New York City and recalled that Adolph was "quiet and immersed in his work." These photographs are not only a rare glimpse of the artist at work but also allow us to see the studio that was destroyed in a tragic fire in 1966.

The recently discovered photographs from that day are highlighted below.

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb and unknown man in the artist's 22nd Street studio, New York, NY, c. 1965, photography ©Robert Estrin

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb and unknown man in the artist's 22nd Street studio, New York, NY, c. 1965, photography ©Robert Estrin

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb at work in his 22nd Street studio, New York, NY, c. 1965, photography ©Robert Estrin

Shown: The Gottlieb paintings seen in Robert Estrin's photographs. (From left to right): Adolph Gottlieb, Ambient Green, 1962, oil on linen, 90 x 72 inches, Adolph Gottlieb, Red and Blue, 1962-65, oil on canvas, 108 x 90 inches, Adolph Gottlieb, Soft Blue - Soft Black, 1960, oil on canvas, 90 x 60 inches.

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb at work in his 22nd Street studio, New York, NY, c. 1965, photography ©Robert Estrin

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb at work in his 22nd Street studio, New York, NY, c. 1965, photography ©Robert Estrin

From the Archive: Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko

"During the thirties and forties, Mark and I used to get together and talk. He was one of the few guys who was articulate because in those days painters were sort of silent men."
–Adolph Gottlieb in an interview with Dore Ashton, February 4, 1972

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb (left) and Mark Rothko (right) at an unknown art opening, March 6, 1961. Photographer: Fred McDarrah.

Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko first met in the late 1920s and remained close friends throughout their lives. Through a selection of archival documents, interviews, and artwork, we are highlighting several important moments in their lives and practice.

"I first met Mark at the Art Center Gallery on 56th street, one of the little galleries introducing new artists. We both used to go to the Opportunity Gallery around 1928 or 1929. Every month they used to show young artists and they usually got some well-known artist to judge, such as Kuniyoshi or Alexander Brooke. Mark and I and Milton Avery frequently got into those shows."
–Adolph Gottlieb in an interview with Dore Ashton, February 4, 1972

"We all went to Gloucester together and once we went to Vermont. And Adolph and Esther came up and took a house near us. But in Gloucester, Rothko came up and Gottlieb came up. They were about ten years younger than Milton, but they all respected him a great deal and they used to hang around, as we'd say. You know, in the City, actually, Rothko lived across the street from us and he'd be at our house almost every night. And Gottlieb would come in very often. And, you know, they'd bring their girlfriends and finally they'd bring their wives when they had them and it was like a close-knit family really. We were very close."
–Sally Avery, recalling the decade of the 1930s, in a 1982 interview with Tom Wolf

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb, Mark Rothko, c. 1933-35, gouache, 20 x 16 inches.

Mark Rothko, [Seated man], 1937/39, graphite on bond paper, 5 1/2 x 4 inches, (possibly Gottlieb).

After meeting Avery in 1929, Gottlieb often visited him with Mark Rothko, first at the Averys' studio in Lincoln Square, then at 72nd Street where they moved around 1930. Gottlieb and Rothko were greatly inspired by Avery's practice and often worked in Avery's studio, sketching each other and working from the same life models.

Gottlieb viewed myth as an alternative to realism, which he wanted to avoid. He recalled saying to Rothko around 1941, "'How about some classical subject matter like mythological themes?' And we agreed... Mark chose to do some themes from the plays of Aeschylus, and I played around with the Oedipus myth, which was both a classical theme and a Freudian theme."
–A passage from "Adolph Gottlieb, A Retrospective" Exhibition Catalogue

1943: Letter to the Times

Adolph Gottlieb, The Rape of Persephone, 1943, oil on canvas, 34 3/16 × 26 1/8 inches, Collection of the Allen Memorial Art Museum.

Mark Rothko, The Syrian Bull, 1943, oil and graphite on canvas, 39 3/8 × 27 13/16 inches, Collection of the Allen Memorial Art Museum, © 1998 Kate Rothko Prizel & Christopher Rothko / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.

"We were having a show at Wildenstein’s, the Federation of American Painters and Sculptors around 1943 and Edward Alden Jewell reviewed the show. He said he couldn’t understand two of the paintings. I called him up and asked that if we’d explain them would he print it. He said yes so I called up Mark and we were close to Barney (Barnett Newman) and Barney was a bit of a writer. So Barney drafted an introduction to our statement."
–Adolph Gottlieb in an interview with Dore Ashton, February 4, 1972

In June of 1943, Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko exhibited new paintings in an exhibition of the Federation of Modern Painters and Sculptors. Edward Alden Jewell, senior art critic at the New York Times, published a lukewarm review of the show. Jewell wrote, "You will have to make of Marcus Rothko's The Syrian Bull what you can; nor is this department prepared to shed the slightest enlightenment when it comes to Adolph Gottlieb's Rape of Persephone." In response, Gottlieb and Rothko wrote a letter that was published a few days later in the New York Times. This letter served as the first formal statement of concerns of the artists who became known as the Abstract Expressionists.

Edward Alden Jewell's review in the New York Times, June 1943.

Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko's response to Edward Alden Jewell's review in the New York Times, June 7, 1943.

"We do not intend to defend our pictures. They make their own defense. We consider them clear statements. Your failure to dismiss or disparage them is prima facie evidence that they carry some communicative power."
–Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko in their response to Edward Alden Jewell, June 7, 1943

Shown: The Rape of Persephone (left) and The Syrian Bull (right) installed at the Allen Memorial Art Museum at Oberlin College in 2017.

1943: WNYC Interview

On October 13, 1943, Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko defended their use of myth and abstraction in their paintings in a radio interview titled The Portrait and the Modern Artist.

Adolph Gottlieb, Eyes of Oedipus, 1941, oil on canvas, 32 1/4 x 25 inches.

Mark Rothko, Leda, 1940/41, oil on canvas, 25 1/2 x 17 1/2 inches, © 1998 Kate Rothko Prizel & Christopher Rothko / Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York.

"Today the artist is no longer constrained by the limitation that all of man's experience is expressed by his outward appearance. Freed from the need of describing a particular person, the possibilities are endless. The whole of man's experience becomes his model, and in that sense, it can be said that all of art is a portrait of an idea."
–Mark Rothko in The Portrait and the Modern Artist," from a broadcast on Art in New York, Radio WNYC, October 13, 1943.

"I think that anyone who looked carefully at my portrait of Oedipus, or at Mr. Rothko's Leda will see that this is not mythology out of Bulfinch. The implications here have direct application to life, and if the presentation seems strange, one could without exaggeration make a similar comment on the life of our time. [...] All genuine art forms utilize images that can be readily apprehended by anyone acquainted with the global language of art. That is why we use images that are directly communicable to all who accept art as the language of the spirit, but which appear as private symbols to those who wish to be provided with information or commentary."
–Adolph Gottlieb in The Portrait and the Modern Artist," from a broadcast on Art in New York, Radio WNYC, October 13, 1943.

The WNYC interview "was helpful because they [Gottlieb and Rothko] both felt that they were sort of outcasts and the public was not interested in them. And that opportunity that first time at WNYC. I think they both felt very much that they lived isolated from the general public and I believe they did have a great deal of satisfaction out of being able to tell the world."
–Esther Gottlieb in an interview with Phyllis Tuchman on October 22, 1981

1950: The Irascibles

In 1950 Gottlieb organizes a protest against an exhibition jury at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, through which Gottlieb and his colleagues, including Mark Rothko, became known as "The Irascibles." The group is pictured below in the famous Life Magazine photo taken by Nina Leen.

Irascibles photo for Life Magazine, November 24, 1950. Photographer: Nina Leen. Gottlieb is pictured in the top row, second from left. Rothko is pictured in the front row, seated at the right.

The Gottlieb/Rothko Friendship

Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko were life-long friends although very different personalities. They shared a number of experiences and stayed in touch with one another until shortly before Rothko's death in 1970. These two friends, who had collaborated on historically important actions earlier in their careers, jointly discussed and developed the idea of forming foundations that would utilize part of their estates to establish grant programs for mature artists. The Adolph and Esther Gottlieb Foundation continues to administer two grant programs for artists and it maintains an archive of the artists' papers that is available to scholars.

"We stayed friends. I felt that we all had had a difficult struggle which we shared to a large extent. We’d been together out of a need for mutual support. In the last few years when he was ill, it was hard to get him out of his studio. We’d usually go have lunch near his studio, Chinese food."
–Adolph Gottlieb in an interview with Dore Ashton, February 4, 1972

"Art to me is an anecdote of the spirit and the only means of making concrete the purpose of its varied quickness and stillness."
–Mark Rothko

“The very nature of abstraction, the very nature of abstract thought is to reduce the complexity of all of life and to bring it down to something very simple which embodies all this complexity.”
–Adolph Gottlieb in a 1962 interview with Martin Friedman

Installation view of Adolph Gottlieb: Classic Paintings, The Pace Gallery, New York, NY 2/28/2019-4/13/2019, Artwork pictured (left to right): Adolph Gottlieb, Crest, 1959, oil on canvas, 108 x 90 inches, Whitney Museum of American Art, Adolph Gottlieb, Aftermath, 1959, oil on linen, 108 x 90 inches

Mark Rothko, Rothko Chapel, 1964, Houston, TX.

From the Archive: Adolph Gottlieb's Yerington, Nevada Post Office Mural

In 1939, the United States Federal Works Agency conducted a forty-eight state mural competition to fill regional post offices across the country with contemporary art. Thirty-six-year-old Adolph Gottlieb entered the competition to create a mural for an Arizona post office. Based on the time he and his wife spent in Arizona in 1937 and 1938, Gottlieb's mural submission was an interpretation of the Southwestern desert and mountains that the Gottliebs treasured while living near Tuscon. The small home in which they resided during this time, and their Model T, can be seen on the mural's left side.

Gottlieb's submission was selected by the committee of three artists, Olin Dows, Edgar Miller, and Maurice Sterne, to hang on the walls of the Yerington, Nevada post office. About an hour's drive outside of Reno, Yerington's landscape greatly resembles Gottlieb's original image. The mural references the desert and rugged mountain views seen from the town. The painting was completed at Gottlieb's studio in Brooklyn and sent to Yerington for installation in 1941. Gottlieb titled the mural Homestead on the Prairie, and it still hangs in the post office today.

An Archival Review of the Yerington Post Office Mural

"I would like to do something with the mural to please myself and not merely as a job, and would like to repaint it for the 12 x 3 3/4 rectangle. The extra work will not matter so long as I can carry out the work to satisfy my own standard of quality."
-Adolph Gottlieb in an August 1940 letter to Edward Rowan

After Gottlieb's mural, originally intended for an Arizona post office, was completed, the artist altered his design to better represent the Nevada landscape and reworked the mural to fit the dimensions of Yerington's post office.

The correspondence below between the artist and Edward Rowan of the Federal Works Administration document these changes.

Image: Study For Yerington Post Office Mural, c.1939, mixed media on paper, unknown dimensions.

Image: Gottlieb's May 4th, 1940 letter written to the Federal Works Administration’s Section of Fine Arts Chief where he discusses the adjustments he plans to make to the size of the canvas which was originally intended for a post office in Arizona

Image: Mr. Rowan's May 10th, 1940 reply.

1940 letter from Adolph Gottlieb to the Federal Works Administration. Gottlieb raises his plan to rework the design which was originally intended for a post office in Arizona.

Mr. Rowan's September 9, 1940 reply.

Image: A letter to Adolph Gottlieb from Federal Works Administration’s confirming the successful installation of his mural. Written February 25, 1941.

Image: A memorandum verifying the installation of Adolph Gottlieb's mural in the Yerington, NV post office, March 31, 1941.

The Mural in Focus Through the Years

A checklist from the Whitney Museum exhibition of the winning designs made for the state mural competition. February/March 1940.

An announcement of the mural's commission in the Reno Evening Gazette, November 1939.

The mural featured in the New York Times Book Review, January 1947.

A 2005 article in Nevada Magazine highlighting the making of the mural.

The mural was warmly received by the state of Nevada. Below is a selection of press referencing the mural and correspondence with the Yerington post office:

"Nevada's mural goes to the new postoffice at Yerington, Nev., for which the work of Adolph Gottlieb was chosen. The painting, which is conservatively modern, by means of house, barn, windmill, corral and Ford car, suggests ranch life in the foreground, and there is a stretch of mountains across the background."
- An excerpt from the Reno Evening Gazette, November 1939.

"The post office murals represent the collective taste of the citizens of the community, together with the individual taste of the artist. Rural Americans preferred the paintings that reproduce experiences and scenes of their history. In spirit, many of these scenes are local American epics."
-An excerpt from Life Magazine, December 4, 1939

"A report from the Postmaster states that the mural has been satisfactory installed. A photograph of the completed work has been submitted to this office and in the opinion of the Section of Fine Arts is satisfactory."
-An excerpt from the above memorandum sent to Adolph Gottlieb upon the final installation of the mural, March 1941

A Look Back: Adolph Gottlieb and Forum 49

"Forum 49 was a summer-long series of sophisticated programs held in 1949, beginning with the forum "What Is An Artist?" and ending with the controversial "French Art vs American Art Today." Record crowds attended the exhibits of paintings and programs focused on the avant-garde in many areas (architecture, psychoanalysis, poetry, jazz) all held in a gallery at 200 Commercial Street."
-Provincetown Art Association and Museum

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb talking with Cecil Hemley at the Provincetown Art Association, sitting in front of Expectation of Evil (1945), Summer 1949. Photographer: Bill Witt.

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb, Expectation of Evil, 1945, oil, gouache & tempera on canvas, 43 1/8 x 27 1/8 inches, currently in the collection of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art.

In Provincetown, Massachusetts in the summer of 1949, a group of artists and avant-garde thinkers led by Weldon Kees, organized a weekly series of speakers, readings, and discussions on various issues impacting the art, music, and literature of the day. Intended to promote the exchange of ideas among progressive artists and thinkers in diverse fields, Forum 49included a major art exhibition, lectures, panel discussions, poetry readings, and more. It was conceived by painter/poet Weldon Kees, painter Fritz Bultman, and poet Cecil Hemley. All three were friends of Adolph Gottlieb's and they recruited Gottlieb to arrange loans of paintings by artists who were not regular visitors to Provincetown, as well as to organize two panels and be a featured speaker, and to be the nominal Chair of the entire event.

On August 11th, Gottlieb organized a panel and led the discussion for the topic "French vs. U.S. Art Today." The topic caused much debate among the audience and comments in the press from as far away as New York and Washington, DC. Forum 49 turned out to be a model for interdisciplinary artists' symposia, lectures, readings, events, and regular discussion groups like "The Club" in New York. It also made Provincetown a destination for more artists and others interested in new ideas.

Below is a selection of press, ephemera, and photographs from this monumental summer event.

"Now about the series of programs for this summer. At a meeting last night I made the suggestion that, to get a double-barreled effect, we should not only have a big opening on July 3, but also on that evening present the first of our programs. The series, incidentally, is to be called Forum 49, and we plan to plaster the Cape with posters and flood the press with publicity releases within the next few weeks. We all agree that the panel you are going to do is a natural for the July 3 opening."
-Weldon Kees in a letter to Adolph Gottlieb, June 8, 1949

Shown: Weldon Kees addressing a Forum 49 group, Provincetown, MA, Summer 1949. Courtesy Provincetown Art Association and Museum archive.

"Adolph Gottlieb, much-publicized of late as a leading figure among avant-garde painters, held the fort for so-called "unintelligible" art. To Mr. Gottlieb, the process of creation is guided by an element of mystery, -the artist by strong inner compulsions that force him to express what he feels, come what may. The ensuing violation of accepted patterns of thought were indicative not of chaos, Mr. Gottlieb stated, but of the evolution of new ideas. Defending the maze of rhythmic shapes and riotous color that surrounded the audience, he described them as the true art of today -the logical outgrowth and humanistic blend of the great traditions of cubism and surrealism."
- An excerpt from The Provincetown Advocate, July 7, 1949

Shown: A Forum 49 group, Summer 1949, Adolph Gottlieb is pictured in the center row, second from left. Seated to the right of Gottlieb are Karl Knaths and Weldon Kees. Photographer: Bill Witt. Courtesy Provincetown Art Association and Museum archive.

Shown: A Forum 49 group, Summer 1949, Adolph Gottlieb is pictured in the front row, second from left. Seated to the right of Gottlieb are Karl Knaths and Weldon Kees. Photographer: Bill Witt. Courtesy Provincetown Art Association and Museum archive.

"Gottlieb spoke of a Forum series that was organized in Provincetown in 1949 by Weldon Kees and others. Gottlieb was asked to organize a panel on the topic “French vs. American Art”. The topic raised quite a commotion and Fritz Bultman, who was then a Francophile (now he is anti-French), and Hans Hoffman got up a circular attacking the forum which they distributed outside of the hall. Later that evening Gottlieb met Hoffman at a party and asked him what he thought of the panel discussion. Hoffman said it was fine. Gottlieb asked him why he put out the circular. Hoffman said that he objected to the title, “American vs. French Art”. The French should have come first. Gottlieb told him it did in the title. “Oh”, Hoffman said, “Then it’s O.K.”
- Irving Sandler's Conversation with Adolph Gottlieb at the HCE Gallery, August 15, 1957, Irving Sandler Papers at the Getty Research Institute Special Collections

Shown: Schedule of events and advertisements for Forum 49 in the month of July, Provincetown, MA. Courtesy Provincetown Art Association and Museum archive.

Shown: Schedule of events and advertisements for Forum 49 in the month of August, Provincetown, MA. Courtesy Provincetown Art Association and Museum archive.

Portraits of the Artist: Adolph Gottlieb and Bob Adelman

"As I recall, we are going back 50 years, we met as neighbors both living at 25 West 96th. We became friendly and I photographed him out in the Hamptons sailing, with the collector Ben Heller and at his studio after the fire." - Bob Adelman in 2015

Adolph and Esther Gottlieb met photographer Bob Adelman (1930 – 2016) in the mid 1960s. The couple and Adelman spent time together at the Gottlieb's Home in East Hampton, NY in the summer of 1964. There, Adelman captured dynamic photographs of the artist sailing and hosting company in his Apaquogue Road home. Back in New York City, Gottlieb and Adelman's friendship continued and was documented through Adelman's photographs of Gottlieb at home and in his studio.

Below is a selection of photographs of Adolph Gottlieb taken by his friend Bob Adelman.

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb sailing in East Hampton, NY, 1964. photo: ©Bob Adelman

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb sailing in East Hampton, NY, 1964. photo: ©Bob Adelman

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb sailing in East Hampton, NY, 1964. photo: ©Bob Adelman

Shown: Adolph and Esther Gottlieb sailing in East Hampton, NY, 1964. photo: ©Bob Adelman

Shown: Adolph and Esther Gottlieb sailing in East Hampton, NY, 1964. photo: ©Bob Adelman

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb with collector Ben Heller at the Gottlieb's home in East Hampton, NY, 1964. They are sitting in front of the paintings (left to right) Red and Green (1961) and Roman Two (1961). Photographer: Bob Adelman.
Artwork pictured: Adolph Gottlieb, Red and Green, 1961, oil on canvas, 72 x 41 1/2 inches. Collection: Yale University Art Gallery.
Roman Two, 1961, oil on canvas, 72 x 60 inches ©Adolph and Esther Gottlieb Foundation/Licensed by ARS, New York, NY photo: ©Bob Adelman

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb photographed at home in front of his painting Groundscape (1956) New York, NY mid-1960s. Photographer: Bob Adelman.
Artwork pictured: Adolph Gottlieb, Groundscape, 1956, Oil on canvas, 84 x 144 inches ©Adolph and Esther Gottlieb Foundation/Licensed by ARS, New York, NY photo: ©Bob Adelman

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb photographed at home in front of his painting Groundscape (1956) New York, NY mid-1960s. Photographer: Bob Adelman.
Artwork pictured: Adolph Gottlieb, Groundscape, 1956, Oil on canvas, 84 x 144 inches ©Adolph and Esther Gottlieb Foundation/Licensed by ARS, New York, NY photo: ©Bob Adelman

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb photographed in his 22nd Street Studio making a note of the verso of Green Haze (1966), New York, NY mid-1960s. Photographer: Bob Adelman.
Art: Adolph Gottlieb, Green Haze, 1966, oil on canvas, 72 x 90 inches ©Adolph and Esther Gottlieb Foundation/Licensed by ARS, New York, NY photo: ©Bob Adelman

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb photographed in his 22nd Street studio, New York, NY mid-1960s. photo: ©Bob Adelman

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb photographed in his 22nd Street studio. He is in front of (left to right) Icon (1964) and an unidentified painting New York, NY mid-1960s. Photographer: Bob Adelman.
Art: Adolph Gottlieb, Icon, 1964, Oil on canvas, 144 x 100 inches ©Adolph and Esther Gottlieb Foundation/Licensed by ARS, New York, NY photo: ©Bob Adelman

Born in New York City in 1930, Bob Adelman grew up on Long Island and earned degrees from Rutgers University, Harvard University, and Columbia University. He studied photography with Alexey Brodovitch, the famed art director of Harper’s Bazaar magazine whose influence can be seen in the haunting beauty of Adelman’s images. With an avid interest in social and political events of the day, Adelman was drawn to the sit-ins staged by young students across the American South.

Throughout his career, Adelman captured some of the greatest New York artists. Adelman’s vast archive of New York artists includes photographs of Andy Warhol, Roy Lichtenstein, James Rosenquist, Larry Rivers, Donald Judd, Jasper Johns, Marisol Escobar, Red Grooms, Jeff Koons, Adolph Gottlieb, Barnett Newman, Robert Rauschenberg, Lucas Samaras, Jim Dine, David Hockney as well as influential New York art dealers. You can read Adelman's full bio here.

From the Archive: The Brooklyn Studios 1933-1956

Adolph and Esther Gottlieb lived in three different brownstones in Brooklyn Heights, NY from 1933 to 1956. In those early years, Adolph Gottlieb's studio was a small attic room and the kitchen, which he used during the day when Esther was out teaching. After working in small spaces for some years, the parlor floor of the brownstone at 130 State Street became available in 1954. The Gottlieb’s promptly rented it primarily as a studio for Adolph.

In a 1974 interview, Esther Gottlieb described the time they spent on State Street, saying "we were quite isolated." "We lived in Brooklyn Heights, and Adolph painted all day." In his new studio space, Gottlieb began to paint on a much larger scale. His larger canvases used almost the entire length of the 17-foot walls

In a 1981 interview with Phyllis Tuchman, Esther recalled how they managed when Adolph first began enlarging his paintings:

I can remember some of those paintings that Adolph did that were 17-feet long and were done in a room which was absolutely, that’s all the size the room was. Fortunately, it had a little alcove because those paintings had to be taken down. I would ask him, "later, when it's dry and you’re going to take it down, what are you going to do with it?" Adolph used to spread paper out, and between the two of us, we’d get the painting down onto the floor. And he’d say, “You don’t weigh very much. If you promise me you’ll only make one step lightly from there to there, then we’ll lift the painting and put its face to the wall so we can put the next one up.” But those are not the conditions today. Artists don’t work that way anymore.

Below are a few paintings that were made in the studio that Esther described during these years. Their expansive painted spaces filling the small, domestic-scaled room would be hard to forget.

Shown: Labyrinth #3, 1954, Oil and enamel on canvas, 80” x 185”.
Currently in the collection of Ivam Centre Julio Gonzalez.

Shown: Black, White, Pink, 1954, Oil on canvas, 84” x 144”

Shown: Unstill Life III, 1954, Oil on canvas, 84” x 192”.
Currently in the collection of the Museum of Modern Art, New York.

From the Archive: The Jewell Letters, "There's no such thing as good painting about nothing"

Shown: Adolph Gottlieb, The Rape of Persephone, oil on canvas, 33 x 25".
Currently in the collection of the Allen Memorial Art Museum at Oberlin College.

In June 1943, Adolph Gottlieb and Mark Rothko exhibited their new paintings in a large exhibition of the Federation of Modern Painters and Sculptors. This was the largest exhibition, and one of the earliest, to show one of Gottlieb's Pictographs as well as one of Rothko's mythic paintings.
Edward Alden Jewell, senior critic at the New York Times, published a lukewarm review of the show but paid special attention to Gottlieb and Rothko. Of Rothko's and Gottlieb's paintings specifically, Jewell writes, "You will have to make of Marcus Rothko's 'The Syrian Bull' what you can; nor is this department prepared to shed the slightest enlightenment when it comes to Adolph Gottlieb's 'Rape of Persephone.'"

In response, Rothko and Gottlieb decide to pen a letter directly to Jewell. Each artist drafted his own response and they then sat down together to combine them into a single letter. They reviewed that draft with their colleague Barnett Newman, who they thought of as a writer, to help shape a final version which was signed by Gottlieb and Rothko and delivered to Jewell. The artists write, "We do not intend to defend our pictures. They make their own defense. We consider them clear statements. Your failure to dismiss or disparage them is prima facie evidence that they carry some communicative power."

The letter enumerates 5 aesthetic beliefs that were central to the artists' new direction:

1. To us, art is an adventure into an unknown world, which can be explored only by those willing to take risks

2. The world of the imagination is fancy-free and violently opposed to common sense.

3. It is our function as artists to make the spectator see the world our way--not his way.

4. We favor the simple expression of complex thought. We are for the large shape because it has the impact of the unequivocal. We wish to reassert the picture plane. We are for flat forms because they destroy illusion and reveal truth.

5. It is a widely accepted notion among painters that it does not matter what one paints as long as it is well painted. This is the essence of academicism. There is no such thing as good painting about nothing. We assert that the subject is crucial and only that subject matter is valid which is tragic and timeless. That is why we profess spiritual kinship with primitive and archaic art.

These ideas precede any discussion of what we think of as Abstract Expressionism by years. But the ideas expressed in this letter were fundamental to the Abstract Expressionist movement.

Jewell incorporated these statements in his response published a week later (The New York Times, June 13, 1943).

Pictograph-Symbol, oil on canvas, 54 x 40".
Currently in the collection of the Art Institute of Chicago

In October of that year, in a radio interview of Rothko and Gottlieb, Gottlieb defends their use of myth and abstraction in their paintings, presumably informed by their exchange with Jewell:

Everyone knows that Grecian myths were frequently used by such diverse painters as Rubens, Titian, Veronese and Velasquez, as well as by Renoir and Picasso more recently.
It may be said that these fabulous tales and fantastic legends are unintelligible and meaningless today, except to an anthropologist or student of myths. By the same token the use of any subject matter which is not perfectly explicit either in past or contemporary art might be considered obscure. Obviously this is not the case since the artistically literate person has no difficulty in grasping the meaning of Chinese, Egyptian, African, Eskimo, Early Christian, Archaic Greek or even pre-historic art, even though he has but a slight acquaintance with the religious or superstitious beliefs of any of these peoples
The reason for this is simply, that all genuine art forms utilize images that can be readily apprehended by anyone acquainted with the global language of art. That is why we use images that are directly communicable to all who accept art as the language of the spirit, but which appear as private symbols to those who wish to be provided with information or commentary.

- Adolph Gottlieb, "The Portrait and the Modern Artist," from a broadcast on
"Art in New York," Radio WNYC, October 13, 1943.

Pictograph, oil on canvas, 47 3/4 x 35 1/2". Currently in the collection of the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC

Pictograph, oil on canvas 35 15/16 x 24 7/8". Currently in the collection of the Philadelphia Museum of Art

All Artwork ©Adolph and Esther Gottlieb Foundation/Licensed by ARS, NY, NY