“He’s a connoisseur of chaos and a cartographer of disorder.”
(Glenn O’Brien, “Apocalyse and Wallpaper” in: Hans Werner Holzwarth, ed., Christopher Wool, Cologne 2012, p.10)

Lattice-like structures of broad scrubbings s, ghost-like residues, and half concealed arabesques form an endless imbrication of doing and undoing in Untitled, a painting that exemplifies Christopher Wool’s defiance of the traditional conventions of painting. Representing an antiheroic paradigm in the art of mark-unmaking, the present work belongs to Wool’s Gray Paintings; oxymoronic images of definitive uncertainty in which addition is levied by subtraction to depict the ultimate post-modern condition: doubt. Extending from Wool's dynamic series of abstract monochrome paintings that began in the early 1980s, Untitled was created through a refined enamel technique, in which works from the series simultaneously expose both their construction and deconstruction. As Wool remarked in an interview in 1998, “I became more interested in ‘how to paint it’ than ‘what to paint.’” (The artist quoted in: Exh. Cat., San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, Christopher Wool, 1998, p. 256). Untitled thus reflects the artist’s iconic breakdown of formal systems, with abstract forms obliterated under layers of chaotic overpainting, celebrating process as the primary means of production.

Franz Kline, Chief, 1950, The Museum of Modern Art, Image: © ARS, NY and DACS, London 2024

Born in Chicago in 1955, Wool rose to prominence in New York during the mid-1980s. Caught between the gesture of Abstract Expressionism, the inward-looking reduction of Minimalism, the readymade immediacy of Pop art, and the intellectual piety of conceptualism, Wool’s work resists codification and interpretation. As curator of Wool’s 2007 Guggenheim retrospective, Katherine Brinson, has stated: “A restless search for meaning is already visualised within the paintings, photographs, and works on paper that constitute the artist’s nuanced engagement with the question of how to make a picture” (Katherine Brinson, “Trouble is my Business” in: Exh. Cat., New York, Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum (and travelling), Christopher Wool, 2014, p. 35). Wool developed his practice during the height of the Pictures Generation; a group of artists who used appropriation and photography to challenge the relevance of painting in contemporary art. In response, Wool sought to demonstrate painting's critical potential by redefining its boundaries. Despite influential critic Douglas Crimp’s 1981 declaration of "The End of Painting," Wool pursued a path that rejected the traditional expressive decision-making typically linked to the medium. It was not until the early 2000s that Wool shifted toward working almost exclusively with abstract forms, exploring expression through repetition, erasure, mechanical processes, and a limited colour palette.

Graffiti covered wall in an alley

In 2000, after accidentally discovering the interaction between turpentine and enamel paint, Wool developed the erasure technique that would become the signature of his celebrated abstract paintings series. Originating from a moment of frustration when Wool attempted to erase an yellow enamel composition using a soaked rag, which in turn created a chaotic yet captivating blurred mass, Untitled signifies a spontaneous and radical process of self-editing, in which Wool first smeared and partially erased his existing black linear strokes, after which he painted over the faint traces left behind, embracing chance and reasserting the role of the artist’s hand. As Wool described it, “It starts someplace and reacting to itself progresses” (The artist quoted in Exh. Cat. MusĂ©e d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris, Impropositions: Christopher Wool, Improvisation, Dub Painting, 2012, p. 8). The chaotic, gestural energy at the heart of this work echoes the visual language of graffiti, transforming the painting into an act of vandalism. Wool’s abstractions are deeply influenced by the urban landscape of New York, reflecting the raw, punk ethos shaped by his involvement in the city’s underground film and music scenes of the 1970s and '80s. At the height of New York's graffiti movement, where densely adorned letters often prioritised graphic impact over legibility, communication was pushed to its breaking point. In Untitled, legibility is abstracted even further, prompting a search for recognisable forms yet continually withholding resolution.

“Wool’s paintings seem like an indescribable urban cool, a tense fusion of intellect and emotion, control and chaos”
(Katrina M. Brown cited in: Hans Werner Holzwarth, Ed., Christopher Wool, New York 2008, p. 296).

Left: Cy Twombly, Untitled, 1970, Minneapolis Institute of Arts, MN, Image: Photo © Minneapolis Institute of Art / Gift of Mr. and Mrs. William N. Driscoll in memory of Charlotte Driscoll Gage / Bridgeman Images
Right: Gerhard Richter, Table, 1962, Private collects ion Art © 2024 Gerhard Richter Bridgeman Images
Man Ray, Space Writing (self Portrait), 1935, Private collects ion, Image: © Man Ray 2015 Trust / DACS, London

Untitled is a monumental and eloquent essay on lightness and abstract fluency. By administering an inscrutable, yet symbiotic, cycle of doing and undoing, Wool creates a space in which free-hand chaotic lines, nebulous shapes, and indistinct forms co-exist in remarkable aesthetic and emotive cohesion. As explained by Brinson, the effect of these works is surprisingly emotive: “The literal loss enacted in the realisation of these paintings endows them with the character of a lamentation, chiming with the potent strains of angst and melancholia that have always run close to the surface of his work, despite its game face of cool indifference” (Ibid., p. 47). Poignantly borne of conceptual doubt and pictorial denial, Untitled is an overwhelming affirmation of paintings’ critical agency.