Edge Is The Limit
Updated: Aug 1, 2018
Painting Without Boundaries
Once upon a time there were no rectangles and painting had no limits.
Area surrounding the contours of painted animals in prehistoric caves and rock surfaces was infinite*. Contractual boundaries of the scenes that were often overlapping in layers were fleeting and dispersed like edges of galaxies. No one would be able to precisely indicate a specific demarcation line of the image painted on a rock. Prehistoric artists didn’t bother to mark the edges of their scenes with the help of, say, dashed lines because they didn’t quite know the idea of a clear edge. The architecture wasn’t yet around…
The surfaces of cave walls and rocks - some of the few relatively flat surfaces available at the time, may not have been of great significance to the cave artists since they didn’t have many other choices**. Perhaps the idea of the background did not even exist, and the only point of focus for the painter's attention was the very silhouette of the painted animal, even if the inevitable and irritating irregularity of the rock had to be used in some imaginative way. It’s difficult not to suspect that rock imperfections were seen as an undesirable problem to be solved rather than a chance to shine with ingenuity. Portable painting in the form of decorated tools or pieces of wood or patterns painted on the bodies of fellow tribes-people did not survive the test of time because of their ephemeral nature.
I suspect, however, that a rectangular image, or even the abstract shape of a rectangle as a paining surface, was not known before architecture.
The earliest “near-rectangle” containing a painting motif limited to it can be seen on some ceramic vases from Northern Iraq (3100-2900 b.c.e.). However in this case, the edge of the rectangle is not an absolute limit but only a geometrical pattern painted on the oblate vessel.
The image with no boundaries has long reigned among people. Even after the introduction of straight lines and architectural angles, painting was long practiced in a "cave manner”, except the rock surfaces were now replaced by stone temples, houses and the tombs of the wealthy adorned with scenes from the life and mythology of their time.
In ancient Rome, the interior and exterior walls were often covered by illusory visions of imaginary architecture painted according to the rules of linear perspective: meta-architecture on the surfaces of real architecture. Thanks to the smoothness of the walls, the surface irregularity problem has been resolved. The straight lines were not disturbed except by the edges of the walls which now were adorned with frame-like arabesques, often spilling around the corners of the buildings. It was where the rectangular nature of the walls began to squeeze the painting into a "frame". The domineering shape of a rectangle began to train and tame human minds long before the invention of plasma screens.
Decorating objects of everyday use or objects of the rite was very common. The painters "wrapped" them with painting just like the interiors and exteriors of the buildings, covering them with colors, clever patterns and scenes on each side.
Greek vases - another example of painting nearly without borders and in three dimensions - were as much of a common painting surface as today's stretched canvasses. Additionally they turned out to be very durable despite the stoneware’s breaking nature.
A very unique approach to painting is illustrated in Egyptian sarcophagi and burial objects. Their three-dimensional form is covered with hieroglyphs and pictorial scenes on each side: even in places inaccessible to the potential viewer. Painting of sarcophagi was a purely magical ritual. It was not about the prestige and appreciation for the artist, but about providing the deceased with a dignified afterlife. It is difficult to imagine today’s artists painting with the prospect of burying their paintings in the depths of dark tombs, aside from the sad possibility of having to store the work in a dark closet to never be seen as it often happens to today’s artists.
Today, museums of art mislead us by showing the portraits of Fayum on the walls, just in the same way portraits of Rembrandt would be hang. The flatness of these rectangular or almost rectangular tiles was dictated by the function of the ritual. These portraits were to be attached to the faces of the deceased and buried with them in the tombs. Giving a realistic (alive) face to the deceased was one of the treatments that guaranteed the transition to a new life in the world of the dead. Such "ritual" or "magical" painting will appear again in the art of the Middle Ages, when the paintings will be perceived not as objects of art, but as objects of worship.
Portable and Holy
With the emergence of the Silk Road, the tentacles of trade and culture began to extend far beyond the territories to which ancient sedentary tribes had become accustomed. More or less permanent changes of place, development of navigation, crusades and pilgrimages have become more frequent than in times of agrarian local self-sufficiency. Perhaps it would be a far-reaching speculation to imagine the first situation in which a pre-medieval traveler had a lot of trouble parting with a beloved wall painting. If it was impossible to cut out a piece of the wall and take it with you***, a good option would be to create a copy of the painting on a rectangular panel.
From there the path to painting pictures with limited edges on portable panels instead of murals was quite obvious. Medieval church architecture contributed to the creation of panel painting composed of separate parts forming the entire altar or reliquary. Such a portable rectangle (or sometimes other geometric shape) was painted on with very durable egg tempera and gold leaf. It was very easy to store on ships and in merchant carriages. Along with the development of trade and the written form, miniatures painted on a strange substrate made of bleached plant fibers called paper also flourished.
Medieval architecture contributed to the creation of panel painting composed of separate parts forming the entire altar (iconostas) or a reliquary. Although undoubtedly such a portable rectangle with a very stable tempera egg motif painted on it was easier to transport, religious considerations were much more important in the mobility of the icons. Images of deities and saints according to the beliefs of orthodox Christians were their living incarnations. Bringing the icons to processions, pilgrimages and battlefields had (and still has) a great ceremonial meaning. Icons surrounded by the greatest piety could be viewed only at certain times of the day during the ceremonial unveiling. A wooden rectangle with a holy image of a deity became, in the eyes of believers, a "window to the infinity" completely independent of its temporal surroundings.
Soon, sailing itself became helpful in solving the storage and transport problem. The easiest way to create most portable painting surface was to use old canvas sails cut into rectangles, which were then rolled up and shipped. If the sixteen and seventeenth-century canvases of the Dutch masters could talk, they would tell us amazing stories of sea travel.
In the face of developing bourgeois class, religious schisms and thaws, the need for secular paintings has increased. Market development meant that art could also become a commodity. The use of sailcloth as a canvas helped in the practical solution of the problem of storage, durability and image format. Thanks to the possibility of rolling the canvases, the image format could be increased. A life-size portrait of a monarch on horseback could now be easily transported from place to place.
Separated from reality, portable canvas-screens have led to the development of the framing industry and contributed to the development of a monstrosity, we called the "art market". The boundary between the image and its surroundings has now turned into an impenetrable fortress wall of a thick ornamental frame. Framing all painted rectangles has since become a desirable way of distinguishing the illusive world of the image from the rest of reality. Thanks to the progress in perspective and optics, the painting itself was slowly bending towards illusion. Artists began to seek illusive realism instead of literal representation of shapes and ornaments. It did not seem strange to anyone that the cow depicted in the picture measured only two inches, because everyone knew that the reality of the painting is a separate illusion. Because the rectangle limited the field of view, the artists learned to crop the reality. Today, in the era of smartphones, everyone is cropping everything without giving it too much thought. In prehistory, there was no cropping and the illusory shrinking of large animals painted on a rock was not rooted in perspective but had some significance in giving more or less importance to certain subjects. The effects of chiaroscuro in Rembrandt's portraits submerging most of the faces in dark shade would probably be read by prehistoric viewers as some kind of skin lesions or leprosy.
Returns To The 3D
Let us now fast forward the tape of art history by several hundred years. Around the middle of the last century, the borders of paintings and their surroundings began to blur again. Piet Mondrian, in the most developed period of his painting, focused on the repetition of horizontal and vertical lines as if the interior of the painting became the echo of its exterior. To his "infinity game" Mondrian not only invites the content within the frame, but also the surrounding architecture of the room, building, city, space and time.
Throughout the 1950s and 1960s many paintings were still separated from the "reality" by thin slats until the frame disappeared completely and the painters began to contemplate the idea of "image without borders" often abandoning the rectangular form of the canvas and considering opening themselves to a ”cave-like” three-dimensionality. This time they used the latest available technologies. Brushstrokes lost their illusive qualities again, and the paint stopped pretending to be rainbows, sunsets and waterfalls. The paint became paint.
For those who stayed with the rectangular panels, the edges of the picture became almost the same obstacle that the cave painters faced trying to solve the problem of bumps on the rock surface. Even Jackson Pollock, who unleashed the wildest instincts on canvases spread on the floor, obediently and respectfully tamed his savagery at the predicted edges of the painting.
The Curse of a Finite Image
To this day, painters struggle with the question of whether the side surfaces defining the thickness of paintings should be left untouched, painted with certain colors or covered with parts of the image visible from the front, thus turning the panel of canvas or a board into a flat box decorated on five sides and hung on the wall. Painters often struggle with the dubious pleasure of covering canvases attached to the walls flat because painting on the surface that is "neither a mural nor a separate panel” is disappointing. Not to mention the terrible consequences of warping the canvasses and their insolent “sticking out” from the walls, as if to point out the error of painting on finite surfaces. Few painters are brave enough to show strictly two-dimensional (thin) images because the thinness contributes to the perception of cheapness and impermanence. Paintings on paper are usually framed and placed behind the glass not only for protection, but also for adding three-dimensionality to a two-dimensional image.
Everything Has Been Done. Everything Is Still Being Done.
It may seem quite comforting that none of the above-described stages of the "image-making" transformations didn’t cause the expiration of earlier imaging methods. The introduction of the portable canvas did not leave the wall paintings behind, and the madness of Jackson Pollock and Dan Flavin did not devalue the easel painting in any way. The frame industry is still in high demand. Today, we admire images in all its forms: seen in a "cave-like” manner (street art and murals), or as a separate illusion of reality (realistic and hyper-realistic images, photography and film) and purely formal painting in which paint does not pretend to be something else (abstract expressionism and minimalism). Painters still paint on vases and other objects just like they did thousands of years ago.
Today's paintings, pictures and screens are usually rectangular. The rectangle is preferred in television and digital technology because within the field of a rectangle we can fit more content than, say, within a circle. Rectangles are most capacious.
* of course, the opening of the cave can be considered as such border. In the very perception of the artist, however, there was no clear indication of what the “edge” of the image should be. The shape of the cave creates an interesting three-dimensional surface, similar to a tube wrapped around itself and devoid of beginning and end
**it’s worth noting that the term “cave art” comes from the fact that most paintings on rocks we know now were found in the caves and they owe their survival only to the limited oxygen levels and limited erosion in time capsules of collapsed caves. In reality it’s safe to assume that all kinds of rock surfaces have been used by prehistoric artists, not just caves.
*** as it happens today with some of the Banksy’s works