As one of the preeminent art historians of the late Victorian era, Heinrich Wolflinn wrote several texts about the essence of artistic style across time. A pioneer of formal analysis as an art historical method, Wolflinn drew connections between an artwork’s construction, completion, and perception. As a complete object, how do we perceive a mass of accumulated components?
Matt Kleberg, “To be titled,” 2024, carborundum relief monoprint, 42 1/2 x 33 1/4 inches
Like the Apollonian and Dionysian tendencies articulated by Fredrich Nietzsche, Wolflinn contrasts five pairs of visual tendencies to conceptualize the two prominent phases of the Italian Renaissance. Swapping the Nietzschean binary of Apollo versus Dionysus—i.e., the mastery of restraint versus the surrendering of self to excess—Wolfflin conceptually opposes the Classic (or linear) and the Baroque (or painterly). In his Principles of Art History (1915), they signify the limited and the limitless, the portrayal of individual forms against the perception of a unified form, and linear flatness versus dimensional depth. A characteristic trait of Classic objects is their distinct, recognizable building blocks. The Baroque? The analysis paralysis of its “too many didn’t count” pieces renders it an isolated sum, a math problem that, much to the chagrin of the teacher, neglects to show its work.
Blind Arcade, the Matt Kleberg show on view at Josh Pazda Hiram Butler, showcases a series of arches (arcades) grounded by, but also transcending, these dualistic qualities. In its original sense, an arcade forms a repetitious group of arches. Whereas arches isolate a single, rounded vault, an arcade implies many arches aligned within a sequence: arranged side by side as in the Roman Coliseum or in tunneled order as seen at the Alhambra Palace in Spain. Arches, as symbols represent renewal or victory: think of the new dawn commemorated by the construction of the Roman Arch of Titus, a monument to military might mirrored in the iconic Washington Square Arch in New York.
Matt Kleberg. “To be titled,” 2024, carborundum relief monoprint, 42 3/8 x 33 1/8 inches
Wolflinn’s formula serves as a useful yet limited tool. Although contrasting the rule of the one with the rule of the many clarifies the “heads versus tails” essence of Wolflinn’s theory of Western art, it negates how these qualities overlap. Despite the formal similarities binding his Blind Arcade, Kleberg visually articulates the formal purity of an arch with such subtlety, delicacy, and nuance that he questions its relationship to this Classic versus Baroque paradigm. How does he arrange these arcades pictorially and curatorially? How does he tease their implied depth on a flat canvas? How does his paint either accentuate or dissolve form?
Regardless of color, medium, or scale, Kleberg unites Arcade as a subject through a near-uniform depiction of pictorial depth. He transforms these would-be arches into arcades by painting a single shape: a curved — and often black — line underlying the implied ceiling of these arcaded tunnels. The elegant purity of this single line transforms mere shapes into forms in the most graceful way imaginable.
Matt Kleberg, “Fountain (Facade),” 2024, oil stick on shaped canvases, 90 x 120 inches
Kleberg’s Fountain (Façade) dominates the gallery. Constructed by two identical towers of stacked and staggered arcades, its meticulous symmetry jets upward, outward, and downward, flowing as abstracted shorthand for a fountain. This seamless arrangement crafts an unmistakable Baroque icon. For instance, imagine this piece isolated from the rest of the show. Without any prior knowledge of Kleberg or his affinity for the architectural, this would read as a complete object. But read as a façade, it recalls the background of a 1970s game show locked in time, especially given its palate of vibrant but subdued earth tones so indicative of that era.
Installation view of “Blind Arcade”
Apart from the Fountain’s striking presence, Kleberg peppers the rest of the gallery with several variations on this multi-dimensional shape and theme. On Fountain’s opposite wall rest three smaller arcades of identical size but multifarious color. Given their relatively small size, their inclusion on such a long wall allows for ample breathing room. Such ample room in fact, that they exist as distinct objects, any closer and we might mistake them for an arcade of arcades.
Matt Kleberg, “To be titled,” (I), 2024,
carborundum relief monoprint, 42 3/8 x 33 1/8 inches
Kleberg pairs these painted portals with a series of printed counterparts. These prints further expand — or more precisely contract—the inherently dimensional vocabulary of architecture. His To be titled prints, pose a refreshing iteration of the can’t-be-bothered disaffection occasionally underlying the term Untitled. To better identify the four pieces in his To be titled suite of prints, I’ve applied my own identifiers of “I” and “II” to reference the individual prints. Across this quintet of carborundum relief monoprints, the pigment progressively dilutes in form and color, leaving traces of its original vibrancy in the fading residue of fewer and fewer varieties, shapes, and dimensions. For instance, between To be titled I and II, the pigment progressively fades until reduced to trio of beige and gray arches. Much like the left to right fading of a Warhol silkscreen, or the sculptural suite of increasingly abstracted bronze backs by Matisse in the MFAH’s sculpture garden, Kleberg’s To be titled works progressively purify their minimal reference to three dimensionality, as they dissolve from forms to shapes.
Matt Kleberg, “To be titled,” (II) 2024,
carborundum relief monoprint, 42 5/8 x 33 1/8 inches
The ritual of navigating an arcade — a rite of passage designed to renew the mind, body, and spirit — assumes a literal identity in modern American society. Instead of conceptualizing this passage as a metaphor for change, modern expectations of convenience envision floating through this portal on a frictionless hover board. Those who turn a blind eye to the American reflex of convenience culture, those thee-but-not-me critics disgusted by the easy way out implications of Ozempic, often testify to America’s unwavering ethos of bootstraps and elbow grease. In doing so, they fail to perceive their role within gaming such a system. As early as the 19th century, this smarter-not-harder mentality seeped into the American consciousness. Out of it emerged a nation of compound interest, casinos, fast food, and the “life altering” grift imbedded in the “for only $29.99…” television sales model. It’s a country where more than half of all Western states were founded during the intoxicating gamble of Gold Rush mania, not to mention the cadre of Southern states who built their entire economy off the backs of others. Bootstraps and elbow grease, right?
Unlike the metaphor of navigating a standard Arcade, if we read Kleberg’s Blind version as suggestive of passing through an impenetrable, and therefore more imperceptible portal, then such a distinction moves the formerly passive needle. Perhaps then Kleberg’s Blind Arcade represents the true essence of ancient ritual, where if you transcend mind over matter, commit to the impossible, and prove your worthiness to those above, you stand a better chance of ascending those below.
Matt Kleberg: Blind Arcade is on view through November 2, at Josh Pazda Hiram Butler.
