Christopher Wool, Apocalypse Now, 1988
"...characterised by a formal randomness, a minimum of pictorial order, and also by a surprising associative power" (¶3)
"...crowded with half-described flecks and scant patches of meaning, which somehow come together and create semi-specific non-memories" (¶3)
"...the viewer initially sees not the words but just letters, seven across in five stenciled rows, which at first glance form an undifferentiated field, similar to Wool's other paintings. But an important change has taken place. Whereas previously the "reading" had been perceptual, it is now cognitive, linguistic rather than stylistic. The stenciled letters are generic in appearance" (¶5, see: Frank Stella, Jasper Johns)
"When the viewer goes on to "read" Apocalypse New, the words run together and appear at first to be some kind of bizarre gibberish—something you can hear but can't quite make out. This breakdown of sense is disturbing, and the painting begms to function as concrete poetry. Spoken from the void as if from some machine, the meaning is scrambled in a riddle of obscure sequence. Then decoding begins in earnest. The letters can be read not only left to right but up and down and even diagonally. Words like ellthec, thekids, ar, and sellthe, confusing at first, fall into place and the message materialises before the viewer's eyes. It is just when the viewer finds comfort in deciphering the code that the bottom falls out of the painting and a whole new field of meaning opens up below." (¶6)
"Wool has applied the letters with a graffiti-like touch, thereby echoing, in the painting, the scratched quality of the letter. Apocalypse Now is like an evil crossword puzzle filled in by the damned, the words breaking down with indeterminate angularity into chaos and confusion. The painting becomes a chant, a rant, a slogan, and a scream." (¶7)
