"I was never interested in making cool, distilled, pure objects"
About this Quote
Puryear’s line reads like a refusal of a whole sculpture-world fantasy: that the highest ambition is an immaculate thing, perfectly “resolved,” sealed off from mess, history, and the artist’s hand. “Cool” and “distilled” carry the whiff of gallery minimalism and high-modernist purity - the kind of object that wants to look inevitable, industrial, unbothered by biography. By saying he was never interested, Puryear positions himself against that prestige economy without sounding defensive. It’s a quiet flex: he’s not rejecting rigor, he’s rejecting sterility.
The verb “making” matters. His work is famously made, not merely designed - shaped by craft traditions, woodworking, and an ethic of labor that stays visible even when the finish is refined. “Pure objects” suggests a sculpture pretending it has no outside: no cultural reference, no memory, no politics, no wear. Puryear’s sculptures often do the opposite. They’re abstract but not aloof; they feel like they’ve traveled. A form can nod to African and Asian vernacular structures, to American Shaker restraint, to tools, vessels, shelters - without collapsing into illustration. That ambiguity is the point: meaning is carried through proportion, grain, joinery, and the body’s intuition.
Contextually, this is an artist who came of age as minimalism and conceptual art were setting the terms of seriousness. Puryear’s answer is neither nostalgic nor ironic. It’s an insistence that sculpture can be intelligent without disinfecting itself - that the “impure” residue of touch, tradition, and lived reference is not a compromise, but the content.
The verb “making” matters. His work is famously made, not merely designed - shaped by craft traditions, woodworking, and an ethic of labor that stays visible even when the finish is refined. “Pure objects” suggests a sculpture pretending it has no outside: no cultural reference, no memory, no politics, no wear. Puryear’s sculptures often do the opposite. They’re abstract but not aloof; they feel like they’ve traveled. A form can nod to African and Asian vernacular structures, to American Shaker restraint, to tools, vessels, shelters - without collapsing into illustration. That ambiguity is the point: meaning is carried through proportion, grain, joinery, and the body’s intuition.
Contextually, this is an artist who came of age as minimalism and conceptual art were setting the terms of seriousness. Puryear’s answer is neither nostalgic nor ironic. It’s an insistence that sculpture can be intelligent without disinfecting itself - that the “impure” residue of touch, tradition, and lived reference is not a compromise, but the content.
Quote Details
| Topic | Art |
|---|
More Quotes by Martin
Add to List
