Joan Waltemath before her drawing.
Shadow’s Shadow, 20 Colored, 2007. Pencil, oil pastel, gouache, tempera and casein on Khadi rag paper, 41h x 27w inches
seen from China

seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Georgia
seen from Netherlands
seen from South Africa

seen from Singapore
seen from Türkiye
seen from Australia
seen from Sweden
seen from China

seen from Canada

seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from China
seen from Netherlands

seen from Australia
Joan Waltemath before her drawing.
Shadow’s Shadow, 20 Colored, 2007. Pencil, oil pastel, gouache, tempera and casein on Khadi rag paper, 41h x 27w inches
Joan Waltemath. Untitled. 2016. Thread and pencil on natural and black canvas. 5″ x 2″
Joan Waltemath. Three Bodies or how I knew you were gone (east below). Oil, graphite, stainless steel, phosphor and florescent pigment on honeycomb aluminum panel. 38″ x 17″
Joan Waltemath. Simply Two (East 3 1,2,3,5,8...). Oil, iron glimmer, graphite, pewter and phosphorescent pigment on honeycomb aluminum panel. 33″ x 14″
Joan Waltemath. RA’s dream (East Below). Oil, graphite, pewter, interference, glimmer, and florescent pigment on honeycomb aluminum panel. 38″ x 19″
Joan Waltemath. stepped threshold (West 1 1,2,3,5,8). Oil, iron ore, aluminum, florescent and phosphorescent pigment on honeycomb aluminum panel. 37 ” x 15 9/16”.
Joan Waltemath: in the absence of grief
Joan Waltemath: in the absence of grief
February 19 - March 21, 2015 C. Grimaldis Gallery, Baltimore, MD
Exhibition Review by Fran Kaufman
Alchemy looms large in this show, defined as a seemingly magical process of transformation, creation, or combination.
The imprecision, or intrusion of the intuitive, counterbalances what is a precisely askew grid, an intellectual imposition, made live by an incredibly nuanced and provocative palette. The geometries vary by painting, but there are nonetheless consistencies throughout, including a reference to the scale of the human torso. Produced over many months or even years, these works demand a lot from the viewer. One can choose whether to engage, but if the choice is yes, a long and immersive daily dialogue will ensue, on both articulate and more sensual grounds.
These paintings make no sound. They are entirely self- contained, engaging in polite conversation with their neighbors but complete and satisfying in some elemental way. They hold their allotted and ample space on the wall with absolute confidence.
Each nuanced and layered color selected in an individual work operates on multiple grounds of tone, opacity and infinite degrees of reflectivity. They seem to convey the physical weight of the hand-made paints, a sophisticated chemical composition of medium, pigment or metallics. The relationships are thoughtful, considering among other aspects how they continually change as you move around them and around the room.
The space created in these works is shallow, controlled by the careful application of pigment on aluminum and the planned-out geometries. What we wind up examining becomes an interior space, compelled by our awareness the work’s relationship in size to our own body. Some of the works are intimate and personal (Contiguity, 2007-12), others more universal in their appeal. The surfaces are gorgeous, with paint sometimes applied like glass or, in sections, showing every tiny notch on the palette knife that created them. Knowing the rigorous intellect and formal process behind them only adds to their effect: they hold up to conceptual scrutiny yet also operate on purely aesthetic grounds, allowing us a choice in the mind-body problem.
The selection of drawings, on beautiful hand-made Khadi paper, gives us a quasi-dictionary to how the works are thought through and developed. (allude/emit 2008). They are directly related to the construct of the paintings, yet because they don't contain the nuance and range of color of the final paintings, they maintain an independent presence.
From the earliest works in the show to those finished this year, Waltemath gives us an exhibition full of small, quiet transformations—the kind that accumulate in your mind over time and become something visceral, even larger than the sum of the parts.
March 2015
Joan Waltemath: in the absence of grief February 19 - March 21, 2015 C. Grimaldis Gallery, Baltimore, MD
Exhibition reviewed by Fran Kaufman Click on News & Views