Walter Thompson

People ask me, “Why nine?”

“Couldn’t it be another number, say seven?”

“Or five?”

Yes, of course. Except not for me. At least, not for me any more. I stumbled onto nine; I’ve been living with nine for almost four years. Nine is where I am. Nine is what I have chosen to study. As an artist, nine is my subject now, my challenge, my burden. And of course you’ll notice it’s not just any nine of them. For one thing, these nines are all about the same size; they are more or less rectangular and they are dispersed around the canvas or paper in three rows or columns more or less evenly. These are the constants of my nines; they are constraints I welcome. They form a situation from which I always begin, and to which I can always refer back. This is how I think about them; this is how they present to me. So whatever I now do as an artist, I do within this framework. My artistic problem is how to give life, variety and character to these nine of them.

Ways to treat the paint are always on my mind. The large paintings in this show, for instance, are made with what might be called “grated” color. I push paint through thin metal graters. Or perhaps you could call them sieves. It’s fascinating to do and the layering and mixing possibilities are endless, especially when working wet paint into wet paint.

Color is mysterious; just about any artist will tell you that. The way it moves us defies definitions. Few useful rules have ever been formulated. The emotional qualities of color live in the realm of the subjective. I try as much as I can to liberate color from the part of my mind that seeks control and understanding. I try to let color find its own face. If I pick a generic color, a blue or red, for instance, I try to let chance determine the exact red or blue that finally appears in the painting.

Nine appeared to me quite without fanfare; whether by chance or some unconscious impulse, nine just crept up on me. Nine found me and I embraced it.

—Walter Thompson
September 1, 2009