I’m not sure I ever “look at color” in isolation. There are colors and arrangements of color that I like and that I’ll go out of my way to experience; I’m looking forward to an exhibition of Soulages’ work in Paris, for instance.
When I look at a Soulages painting my inner narrative is probably something like “Wow, this is black… a luminous black which emphasizes straight, purposive brushstrokes in a way that’s quite different from any other painter’s use of color I’ve seen; how puzzling and delightful.” It’s different from the reflective black of my coffee cup nearby, the matte black of my phone handset or the black I see when I close my eyes. When I see my coffee cup I’m mostly seeing the reflections, when I see the handset it’s the texture that stands out, when I close my eyes the black is a background to a dance of random splotches and blobs.
When I think about my perception of black in all the above instances I am certainly thinking in terms of dispositions and of abstract tags. There isn’t a unitary “feeling of black” that persists after these various experiences of things I now call black.
I’m not sure I ever “look at color” in isolation. There are colors and arrangements of color that I like and that I’ll go out of my way to experience; I’m looking forward to an exhibition of Soulages’ work in Paris, for instance.
When I look at a Soulages painting my inner narrative is probably something like “Wow, this is black… a luminous black which emphasizes straight, purposive brushstrokes in a way that’s quite different from any other painter’s use of color I’ve seen; how puzzling and delightful.” It’s different from the reflective black of my coffee cup nearby, the matte black of my phone handset or the black I see when I close my eyes. When I see my coffee cup I’m mostly seeing the reflections, when I see the handset it’s the texture that stands out, when I close my eyes the black is a background to a dance of random splotches and blobs.
When I think about my perception of black in all the above instances I am certainly thinking in terms of dispositions and of abstract tags. There isn’t a unitary “feeling of black” that persists after these various experiences of things I now call black.