Executed during his two year painting hiatus, Philip Guston’s Untitled reveals the artist at his most rigorously intellectual, intimate, and immediate. Having enjoyed great success as an abstract painter, the years from 1968 to 1970 marked a return to figuration, abandoning the formal expression of abstract painting to depict the direct, tangible reality of life. This reality was one of discontent; following the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr and Senator Robert F Kennedy, civil unrest brought by racial tension and continued brutality of the Vietnamese War was broiling to a point of rupture. Guston’s return to figuration was in part motivated by the changing face of the art world as it turned away from Abstract Expressionism, but was also a response to the tumultuous social climate. He later recalled, “when the 1960s came along I was feeling split, schizophrenic. The war, what was happening to America, the brutality of the world. What kind of man am I, sitting at home, reading magazines, going into fury about everything - and then going into my studio to adjust a red to a blue?” (Philip Guston cited in: Philip Guston Foundation, online). The present work marks a turning point in the artist’s late career and is a test.mes nt to his life-long commitment against social injustice.

Guston was not afraid to confront the reality of violent racism in American society, his sketchy charcoal outlines of the patched-up hood and two square eyes recalling the white robes of the violent American white-supremacist group, the Ku Klux Klan (KKK). In the thirties, Guston had depicted the KKK in his Drawing for Conspirators (1930) and Conspirators (1932).These early works depicted the robed Klansmen in sculptural drapery, set amidst a surreal architectural landscape, largely inspired by the works of de Chirico, who were among his early artistic influences. These Klansmen have large, blockish hands and a broad build, exuding a frightful sense of mystery and monumentality. Revisiting the imagery decades later, Guston transforms the intimidating figures into cartoonish creatures, their two beady eyes and patched-up appearance creating an endearing aura of innocence. Their cuteness is jarring, stirring a strong sense of discomfort in the viewer as the undeniable resemblance to the horrific violence of the Klan merges with the seemingly harmless creatures. Framed behind what appears to be the back of a bench or a brick hedge, their masked expressionless eyes reveal nothing of who may be underneath. Are they two friends sitting on a park bench, sandwiches on their laps, catching up on their day? Or are they two conspiring Klansmen, hiding and waiting to attack? Guston posits the possibility that they can be both at the same t.mes , suggesting that the racist ideologies which guide the Klan can exist inside anyone - friends, family, and even ourselves. The hoods not only represent evil, but also represent the masks we wear in public. As Guston described, “They are self-portraits, I perceive myself as being behind the hood… The idea of evil fascinated me… I almost tried to imagine that I was living with the Klan. What would it be like to be evil? To plan, to plot” (Philip Guston cited in: R. Storr, Philip Guston, New York 1986, p.56). Guston’s refusal to exempt himself from responsibility and his deep perceptiveness into the contradictions of human nature transcends t.mes and space, carrying particular relevance to contemporary viewers today.

Guston periodically returned to drawing for artistic renewal throughout his career. Constituting an essential fragment in Guston’s oeuvre, Untitled captures the artist’s reflections on society during a period of radical unrest, and carries particular resonance to the reality of our society today.