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Sometimes the components of a work are as important or more important than the wholeness of the work itself. Rather than a puzzle in which all of the predetermined pieces fit together to form the complete image of a landscape or object, an artwork comes together in a manner that presents a puzzle. The finished product can be thought of as the point in which all the key ideas and processes of the artist intermingle in an intricate conversation.

While I try to create order in my work, I recognize nature’s affinity for chaos. There are patterns inherent in nature, controlled by natural processes and sequences. The world is composed of systems, collections of interacting parts functioning as a whole (Lucas). There are also occurrences that cannot be explained by a rational pattern; they appear to be random or chance events. For example, weather can be likened to an orderly disorder because it repeats itself and displays distinct patterns over time, and yet the patterns are never quite the same. While there are seemingly random changes in the weather, those changes are actually part of a “fine geometrical structure” (Gleick 16).

Picture a butterfly on any normal day. The flapping of that butterfly’s wings can cause a minute change in the surrounding atmosphere, which in turn can drastically change the weather across the world over time. A tornado that might have torn apart a town might instead become a simple breeze. This theory, called the butterfly effect, proposes that a small change in initial conditions can drastically alter long-term effects (Rae).

The butterfly effect was discovered when meteorologist Edward Lorenz set up a series of 12 equations on his computer that were designed to predict weather patterns.

“One day in 1961, he wanted to see a particular sequence again. To save time, he started in the middle of the sequence, instead of the beginning. He entered the number off his printout and left to let it run. When he came back an hour later, the sequence had evolved differently. Instead of the same pattern as before, it diverged from the pattern, ending up wildly different from the original. Eventually he figured out what happened. The computer stored the numbers to six decimal places in its memory. To save paper, he only had it print out three decimal places. In the original sequence, the number was .506127, and he had only typed the first three digits, .506.” (Rae)

The minute change in numbers, drastically altered the overall readout of Lorenz’s program. This is relevant to both natural phenomena and the artistic process that is present in my work.

Small changes in the process that create larger changes in the overall composition are inherent in my work. The pattern in “Blue Hatch Marks” is evident; short blue lines are drawn in sets of three and each set alternates between a horizontal and vertical orientation. While the general idea was planned out before the drawing was started, there were no measurements or designated places for each mark. Instead, I allowed for chance occurrences to take place during the process. The placement of each mark effects the entire composition; when one line is out of place, the rest will follow, creating a greater change over the course of the drawing. The order appears to become disorganized when the spacing of the lines, the lines lengths, and the distance between the rows change.

It often appears that random events occur either in the natural world or in our personal lives. The weather changes in a matter of hours so that even the best meteorologists cannot accurately predict what weather will be experienced, and events that we cannot foresee happen to us without any warning. This can be explained by closely examining chaos:

cha·os \'kA-"äs\ n I [L, fr. Gk – more at GUM] 1 obsolete : CHASM, ABYSS
2 a often capitalized : a state of things in which chance is supreme; especially : the confused unorganized state of primordial matter before the creation of distinct forms -- compare COSMOS b : the inherent unpredictability in the behavior of a natural system (as the atmosphere, boiling water, or the beating heart)
3 a : a state of utter confusion b : a confused mass or mixture <a chaos of television antennas> (Merriam-Webster 186)

As it appears in definition three above, chaos is often thought of as a confused and disorganized mess. However, according to chaos theory, it is actually more organized than one would imagine. What appears to be disordered and completely random can often be explained by rational means. What a person may refer to as utter chaos, may in fact be an organized pattern. Chaos theory states that it is “possible to get completely random results from normal equations (Rae), or a pattern or state of order existing within apparent disorder” (Merriam-Webster 186). Chaos theory has been applied to nature, society, psychology, economics, math, and anything else that deals with systems of changing patterns. This is exemplified by the butterfly effect.

Fractals, although separate from chaos theory, are often mentioned in context with chaos. Simply stated, a fractal is a “geometrical figure in which an identical motif repeats itself on an ever diminishing scale” (Lauwerier xi). They can be generated on a computer using a series of equations, or they can be found throughout nature. For example, a tree starts with the largest part: the trunk. The trunk then splits into two branches, each of which then split into two smaller branches and so on. In theory, the only difference between the smallest pair of branches and the part where the trunk first splits into a pair of branches is size. Even the smallest unit of branches is nothing but a scaled-down version of the entire figure (Lauwerier xii). While a tree is not nearly as precise as a computer-generated fractal, it nonetheless exhibits similar characteristics.
Spirals in particular are considered the “building blocks of fractals and the living world.” (Lauwerier 1) DNA, shellfish, and galaxies are all based on spirals. Spirals are associated with growth, endless rotation (movement), and infinite repetition. The spirals of twine present in my works are carefully wound from the tight inner spiral to the outermost edge. They are fastened to a flat cardboard background, in some cases overlapping, and in others they are not even touching each other. Other works consist of one large spiral that is not confined by the edge of a rectangular background. Overall, they have a naturalistic, organic feeling because they have slight disturbances in spacing, color, and shape; they appear to have been created by a human hand.

Spirals imply a sense of timelessness, of never-ending movement, yet the ones I create are finite. They have an observable distinct beginning and ending. Similar to those found in nature, because they are physical creations, they do not go on forever as do the theoretical spirals created from mathematical equations.
Many artists incorporate ideas of order and chance into their work. In particular, Sol LeWitt, Eva Hesse, and Jackie Winsor deal with these concepts in different ways. Although their styles are varied, all three artists arose from the basic creeds of

Minimalism, which was a reaction to the subjective and impulsive manner of the Abstract Expressionists who preceded them. Emotionally expressive artists of the 1940’s and 1950’s allowed their artwork to resonate from the subconscious instead of carefully controlling what appears on the canvas. For example, in his later work Jackson Pollock eventually erased all figures and symbols from his paintings, focusing instead on the gesture of the physical process. Pollock literally engaged himself in his paintings, stepping onto the canvas to spatter paint into an all-over composition. Focus is placed on the energy and movement of the colored drips and the spontaneous nature of each painting (Fineberg 93).

Coming out of Abstract Expressionism, the Minimalists created works that were industrial in nature, works that could be crafted by anyone, including a machine. They were abstract, sterile, void of unnecessary detail, and precisely geometrical (Baker 9). Instead of being treated as “vehicles for abstract ideas or emotions,” works of art were considered as literal objects. (Fineberg 294). There was a turn from the spontaneous, unconscious process of the Abstract Expressionists to a process in which there existed a predetermined plan. Minimalists sought to blur the distinction between art and non-art, creating objects that were not traditionally found in a gallery setting (Baker 9). If the works that they created could be done by anyone, how could they be considered art objects? Focus was placed on the idea of the work as the creative entity. They were more like architects, making carefully delineated plans that could be carried out by anyone with the correct materials (Legg 166).

The emotional sterility and “detached objectivity” of Minimalism prompted artists like Eva Hesse and Jackie Winsor to migrate back to a more natural ideology. They “took the anti-illusionist preoccupation of Minimalism as a foundation while at the same time remaining so palpably involved with their own intimate body experience” (Fineberg 311). The focus on male dominance throughout art history pushed Hesse, Winsor, and other female artists of the 1970s to move towards a more feminist ideal. As a reaction to the strict geometry and order of Minimalism, they gravitated towards process art, an art form that focused on the transient properties of materials (Barrette 14). “Feminist artists’ insistence on prioritizing experience and meaning over form and style was itself a challenge to the modernist valorization of ‘progress’ and style development…” (Broud and Garrard 10). Hesse and Winsor moved beyond the purely formal qualities of Minimalism and into a realm that dealt with emotion and humanity. They used non-art and craft materials that often raise questions as to the validity of work created by women. For example, quilting was thought of as a woman’s craft, not worthy of being placed in an art museum. Until the feminist movement, art was considered in terms of the male experience. They turned away from the traditional steel, cold, stone materials used by men and began working with materials such as latex, fiberglass, wood, and hemp.

The male-oriented concepts from which Hesse and Winsor distanced themselves is evident in works by Sol LeWitt, who worked through the 1960’s and 70’s. He discusses the concepts of his early work:

“In conceptual art the idea or concept is the most important aspect of the work. When an artist uses a conceptual form of art, it means that all of the planning and decisions are made beforehand and the execution is a perfunctory affair. This kind of art is not theoretical or illustrative of theories…It is usually free from the dependence on the skill of the artist as a craftsman. It is the objective of the artist who is concerned with conceptual art to make his work mentally interesting to the spectator, and therefore usually he would want it to become emotionally dry” (Legg 166).

LeWitt created sculptures and drawings that are composed of 90-degree angles and smooth, sleek surfaces. There was no intimation of a human touch. His works could be and often were created by anyone. LeWitt’s wall drawings are a good example of his Minimalist work. LeWitt produced a number of directions for the wall drawings that were then carried out by assistants who drew them directly on the wall surface. The wall drawings illustrate the idea of order, chaos and systematic art-making. “The pencil lines were as regular as LeWitt and his draftsmen could make them, yet viewed up close they betrayed every nubble of the surface area they covered…To LeWitt, the wall drawings made sense because they were systematic yet unpredictable in ways that had nothing to do with whims of his hand or his taste. (Baker 94)” During the mid-to-late-1970s, the wall drawings became more vibrant, colorful, and visually stimulating. At first, LeWitt’s wall drawings, which are composed of different sized and spaced lines, were drawn with pencil on white walls. Bright blue, yellow, and red began to emerge in about 1975. The lines, which were once obviously ordered and arranged, seem to become more confused. The directions for the lines changed from something like “Straight Lines, Shorter than 24 cm, Not Touching” (Legg 113), to “Lines from Points to Points” (Legg 145). As the directions became more vague, the draftsmen were left with more to interpret, causing more pronounced individual differences between each piece.

One of my works, “Rectangles” from 2002, is composed of a large group of black triangles that fit together to form different sized rectangles. They are made from mat board and are placed directly on the wall. The overall effect consists of the black triangles with areas of white wall between them. Placing the piece directly on the wall implies a more spontaneous manner of working. The composition is dependent upon the size and state of the wall. As LeWitt stated, wall drawings are ultimately left to the control of the wall (Baker 94). Also, an artwork that is a part of the wall cannot be moved, bought, framed, or placed in another context.

My works from last semester were different from the current pieces in that they were representational and were created without predetermined plan. I was still dealing with issues of control, but I thought that they had to contain an image in order to convey a message of chaos and confusion. While creating “Untitled” (2001), I was more concerned with the process of making the work than I was with the finished product. Every sweep of charcoal replaced vocabulary as a personal expression. As the work progressed, I hardly knew what it would look like. Instead of planning the elements and the overall composition, I proceeded to let the image emerge through the process. Spirals and sweeping lines are prominent in the works from last semester. They give the illusion of movement and distance, and imply confusion and turmoil. The figures in the untitled work are abstracted, but recognizable. Every mark was loosely drawn, and in one work, the lines flow off of the paper and onto the wall.

Since then my process has changed from a spontaneous flow of emotion to a more controlled style. I needed more control than the drawings from last semester would allow, and the figures were hindering rather than helping my process. I needed structure, control, and a plan, but one that would allow the process to intervene, to allow myself as a human to create changes, disturbances in the pattern. The current works are planned, but they still allow for the materials to dictate the final outcome.
The literal figure has disappeared from my work, leaving only an allusion to a human presence. Individual elements create an all-over composition in which there is no main figure or focus. There are individual components created with the intent of ordering them so that they will function together a whole. Composure is a group of individually wrapped tennis ball cans wrapped in twine. They are spaced on the floor in a manner that does not suggest a particular pattern, but that is consciously planned. Each can is placed in conjunction with every other can, and together they create the entire composition. The importance is placed not so much on each object, but on the patterns that they form and how they are visually organized in a particular space.

Eva Hesse works with similar ideas of order and systems. While she uses many of the conceptual elements that are present in LeWitt’s works, Hesse rejects the main tenets of Minimalism. Her work is not based on mathematical equations and precision. Instead, it has emotional elements that contrast with LeWitt’s cold, sterile works (Baker 84). The objects that Hesse creates are both rooted in her personal life and are evocative of particular feelings.
For example, “Repetition 19 III” consists of nineteen off-kilter latex cylinders that are placed directly on the floor. They are organic-looking with odd shapes, uneven coloring, and protruding bubbles of latex. Many of them are dented and misshapen. Each piece stands on its own with no external support, but looks as if it is being overtaken by the forces of gravity (Barrette 12). When viewed together in the arrangement, they appear to be unevenly spaced. However, the dents and spacing are not entirely arbitrary. In one corner sits an almost perfectly shaped cylinder and, as they spread out farther away from that corner, the shapes become less and less perfect. The order is created by the interaction of the individual pieces (Barrette 146).

In contrast, the arrangement of the pieces in LeWitt’s Serial Project No. 1 (ABCD) also appears to be random, but are in fact much more organized than that of Hesse. The different sizes and shapes of the rectangular objects do not appear to be placed in a particular order. However, LeWitt had specific plans as to where each piece should go and how they should interact. “Serial Project No. 1(ABCD)” is built on a grid, with different sized cubes and rectangles in each square. The arrangement consists of cubes inside of squares, squares inside of squares, squares inside of cubes, tall boxes inside of short ones, short ones inside of short ones, and so on. The emphasis is on the differences between each component, while functioning together to create a larger composition. The boxes are constructed out of wood which has been painted white to give it a clean, sterile look (Legg 170). The objects do not appear to have been touched by the artist, instead they look as though they could be created by anyone with or without a background in art. By removing evidence of a human presence, this work and others seem to echo the industrialized environment, distanced from nature (Baker 93).

The grid is a repeating theme for all three artists. LeWitt’s grids are very structured and the measurements are carried out precisely according to a plan. For Hesse, the arrangements are less structured and do not revolve around mathematical strategies. Her work Schema consists of a grid of 144 half-spheres that are molded into a flat surface. Schema is made from latex, a material that is easily manipulated and therefore can become misshapen during creation (Barrette 12). Hesse allows the modules to become dented and unevenly spaced. Because of the slight differences in shapes and spacing, both Schema and “Repetition 19 I” appear to have been touched by a human hand as well as effected by gravity and other natural forces, whereas LeWitt’s work seems as though it could have been crafted by anyone as instructed by his specific instructions. Jackie Winsor’s grids also look as if they are made by a human and as though they do not require sophisticated tools. In works such as “Bound Grid,” a grid-like structure is constructed from tree branches and twine. Winsor neatly and obsessively joins the branches by wrapping hemp around the points in which they intersect (Baker 87). She, like Hesse, uses patterns and repetition, but does not make them precise. Instead, the natural curves and bumps of the branches create tension between disorder and control. The piece looks tilted and subject to gravity, like it could fall over at any moment.

Materiality is a defining characteristic of how an artwork balances chaos and control. I find materials that either appeal to the sense of touch or that will create a texture once they are put together. Often they are organic-looking instead of industrial. This gives a sense of a presence, similar to that of Hesse’s works. By insinuating that a human touch is involved, the possibility of disorder becomes greater. If everything was conducted with rigid, controlled materials, the works would become more like those of Sol LeWitt’s early works: void of human emotion, cold, and empty.
Jackie Winsor wraps objects with hemp to create texture and form. In “Plywood Square,” a piece of plywood is wrapped so many times with hemp string that the shape of the piece no longer resembles the block of plywood (Baker 87). By changing the visible properties of the wood, Winsor is not only controlling the object, but also that which the audience is allowed to see. Only the title gives away the nature of the actual object.

For me, objects are wrapped with certain materials in order to visually organize an object or group of objects. Wrapping an object allows me to control what the viewer will see by concealing part of it and letting another part show. By carefully covering a jumbled mess, it becomes clean. By wrapping dissimilar objects in the same material, they become more uniform. In a less literal sense, wrapping controls the flow of information, of what is seen and of what is imagined to be hidden. The imperfections and differing labels and shapes of the tennis ball cans in “Composure” are disguised by the uniformity of the twine that is wrapped around each one. The viewer no longer has to sort through the differences and can instead notice the similarities and the way that they work together to form the entire composition. Hesse also allows elements of the process to take control. The materials that she chooses, such as latex, are susceptible to changes during the process. Her works become misshapen, appear fragile, and are susceptible to the forces of gravity (Barrette 12). The materials as well as the hand-made look allude to the presence of a human and human emotions. LeWitt, on the other hand, does not allow so much chance and instead uses materials that are harder to manipulate, such as steel. However, as demonstrated by his wall drawings, the material ultimately has the last say in the direction that the work will take.

Different materials and textures lend themselves to various levels of control. The inexpensive, easy-to-find materials that I use, such as twine and cardboard, are neither perfectly formed nor built to last through time. While the twine is ultimately subject to my control, I am at the same time limited by its physical properties. Twine that is curled tightly is difficult to form into a straight line, when it is cut short it will not stretch to make a longer piece, and every fray and imperfection is evident. Using materials and marks that are easily repeated, copied, and manipulated visually organizes an object or group of objects, so that I am ultimately controlling what can be seen. This also lets me get a grip on the seemingly uncontrolled areas of my life. On an individual level, I am ultimately in control of my life and myself. However, I too am susceptible to chance experiences. By manipulating found and derived materials, I am able to gain control of not only myself, but also of nature. The pieces of my work can be thought of as the point in which chance and control intermingle in an intricate conversation. My work deals with the natural tendency towards chaos and the human, personal drive towards control. I attempt to maintain order by repetitively and obsessively creating shapes and objects that are controlled and that control the viewer while allowing natural variations to take place.

Works Cited

Baker, Kenneth. Minimalism. New York: Abbeville Press, 1988.

Barrette, Bill. Eva Hesse: Catalogue Raisonne. New York: Timken Publishers, 1989.

Broude, Norma, & Garrard, Mary D. The Power of Feminist Art. New York: Harry N Abrams Publishers, 1994.

Fineberg, Jonathan. Art Since 1940: Strategies of Being. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 2000.

Gleick, James. Chaos: Making a New Science. New York: Viking Penguin, 1987.

Lauwerier, Hans. Fractals: Endlessly Repeated Geometrical Figures. New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1991.

Legg, Alicia, ed. Sol LeWitt: The Museum of Modern Art. New York: The Museum of Modern Art, 1978.

Lucas, Chris. Self-Organising Systems FAQ. 24 May 1997. Mountain Man’s Global News. 2 April 2002. < http://www.magna.com.au/~prfbrown/news97_h.html>

Merriam-Webster. Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary. Massachusetts: G. & C. Merriam Company, 1977.

Rae, Greg. Chaos Theory: A Brief Introduction. 1997. 15 March 2002. <http://www.imho.com/grae/chaos/index.html>