Edited by Karen Kelly, Barbara Schroeder. Foreword by Humberto Moro. Text by Lynne Cooke, Julian M. Rose, Corinna Thierolf, Edward A. Vazquez. Conversation with Matilde Guidelli-Guidi, Curtis Harvey.
Exploring the decades-long working relationship between Fred Sandback and Dia Art Foundation, which served as a venue for his “situational” sculpture
Hbk, 8 x 10 in. / 136 pgs / 168 color / 20 bw. | 10/22/2024 | In stock $35.00
Published by Dancing Foxes Press/Fred Sandback Archive. Edited by Karen Kelly, Barbara Schroeder. Foreword by Humberto Moro. Text by Lynne Cooke, Julian M. Rose, Corinna Thierolf, Edward A. Vazquez. Conversation with Matilde Guidelli-Guidi, Curtis Harvey.
In 1968, sculptor Fred Sandback (1943–2003) mounted his first solo exhibition at Heiner Friedrich’s Munich gallery, displaying works made from elastic cord or acrylic yarn that traced planes and volumes in space. Thus began a long-term relationship that extended to Dia Art Foundation, the institution cofounded by Friedrich in 1974. Until now, there has been little published on Sandback’s extraordinary alliance with Dia. Essayists Julian M. Rose, Corinna Thierolf and Edward A. Vazquez, as well as conversation partners Matilde Guidelli-Guidi and Curtis Harvey, unearth and explore archival documents, sketches and photographs to reveal how the institution offered Sandback both space and time to meticulously hone his sculptural interventions in the architectural environments of Dia, including the Fred Sandback Museum in Winchendon, Massachusetts, and Dia Beacon, New York.
Published by Hatje Cantz. Text by Federica Zanco, Daniel Garza Usabiaga.
In 2016 sculptures by Fred Sandback (1943–2003) were installed in the Casa Luis Barragán, the Casa Antonio Gálvez, Cuadra San Cristóbal and the Casa Gilardi of Luis Barragán (1902–88). The American minimalist and the Pritzker Prize–winning Mexican architect share a common interest in the properties of light and color; the remarkable interplay between their works, documented in photographs, is presented for the first time in this publication, with essays by Barragán Foundation Director Federica Zanco and curator Daniel Garza Usabiaga, as well as a conversation between architect Roger Duffy, artist Amavong Panya, curator Lilian Tone and author Edward Vazquez.
American artist Fred Sandback is known for sculptures that outline planes and volumes in space, informed by a minimalist artistic vocabulary. Though Sandback employed wire, rods and elastic cord in his earliest works, he soon dispensed with mass by using acrylic yarn to create sculptures that produced perceptual illusions while addressing their physical surroundings—"the pedestrian space," as Sandback called it, of everyday life.
Published by Kerber. Edited by Reinhard Spieler, Kerstin Skrobanek. Preface by Reinhard Spieler. Text by Fred Jahn, Kerstin Skrobanek.
This catalogue presents a broad selection of Fred Sandback’s works on paper, drawings and prints, providing impressive evidence of how seamlessly Sandback transferred the techniques of lithography, etching and woodcuts into the aesthetics of his time and traces the development of his sculptures in these media.
Published by Hatje Cantz. Edited by Friedemann Malsch and Christiane Meyer-Stoll. Essays by Yve-Alain Bois and Thierry Davila.
As a student at Yale, Fred Sandback struggled with sculpture until George Sugarmann told him "if you are so sick of the parts, why not just make a line with a ball of string and be done with it." For the rest of his career, Sandback used taut and resonant strings to sculpt space and light. Ephemeral and site-specific, his Minimalist sculptures, familiar to visitors to Dia:Beacon among other museums, use colorful acrylic yarn strung between the ceiling and floor or into the corners of an exhibition space to interrupt and delineate space, refer to drawing, evoke volume, create magical boundaries that beg to be traversed, and give the viewer occasion to pause and consider. His clusters of lines can seem to create walls or doors, or make the space reverberate like the body of an instrument whose strings have just been plucked. The artist himself called them "pedestrian spaces" by which he meant to describe both the viewer as a passerby and his art as an everyday thing. Following his death, his remaining works feel less pedestrian, less everyday, more precious and more ephemeral, each irreplacable one ready, as many have, to revert to a tangle of threads.