Looking at a piece of abstract art can feel a lot like trying to solve a puzzle. Though the puzzle can feel intellectual, even mathematical, I often find the real value lies in the emotional journey of coming to a fitting conclusion. But then what does the beginning of that emotional journey look like? What about the end? And much like the answer to those questions, the conclusion reached upon considering a piece of abstract art is more of a bookmark—a point you’ll take off from the next time you engage with it.
For Ann Orlowski, finding the abstraction of everyday life wasn’t something she immediately gravitated toward. More accurately, it took her time to decipher the world at large through her landscape paintings to get to a point of obscurity that she could then reassemble to divine meaning.
Growing up in the City of Dubuque, defined by examples of Gothic Revival architecture, Ann was drawn to the simplicity of the industrial buildings. In a way, these structures serve as the tools of society; they exist because they are useful. Of these buildings, Anns says, “They weren’t necessarily built to stand the test of time. Gas stations and parking garages are not outstanding examples of modern architecture; they are utilitarian. These structures are not intentionally built as a mark of our culture, but they are a mark on our culture.”
So it is that Ann’s earlier work consists of markedly human structures: utility poles against a blue sky and rigid architecture stretched through perspective. The repeated subject harkens back to her time at the University of Northern Iowa, in Cedar Falls, where she studied printmaking. After moving to Madison, in 2002, she lost access to a printing press and transitioned to her painting practice. As Ann’s life evolved, so did her work, which still comes in focused bursts. For the viewer, it’s an instinctive act to organize her work chronologically.
The methodically repetitive practice of developing a series of pieces almost feels like a step-by-step class to creating abstract art, but it’s patently Ann. “I started to deconstruct these buildings, thinking, ‘What if I take it apart? What if I play with perspective so it doesn’t make sense anymore? What if the angles are reoriented in a way that doesn’t make it feel real?’ At first, I was interested in creating realistic landscape, then I started wondering how I can twist and make it feel unreal but still based in architecture. Then I said, ‘Okay, I can make an unreal architecture, so what if this space is just its own thing altogether?’ It’s not based on a grounded object sitting in an environment anymore; it’s just about this space. I can play with all these different elements I’ve learned and manipulate them in a different and new way.”
Through her most recent works, Ann has cemented her contribution to art’s function as an antithesis to a fast-paced society hellbent on distraction. She admits her pieces might not have as strong of a hook as expected forms of art, but I find her pieces work more as this seed that’s planted in her audiences’ heads. The more time spent nurturing that seed, the more the meaning of her effort starts to blossom. Almost like jazz, what seemed out of place was just a polyrhythmic harmony yet to blend into a preconceived notion of what is and isn’t acceptable—what does and doesn’t constitute art.
“Trying to balance the moment an artwork grabs your attention versus the subtlety that keeps a viewer engaged is something I’m constantly thinking about. I’m exploring how subtle I can make a piece. Recently, I made a painting that was just black on black on black—just subtle shifts in tone. It felt like a real risk, but people were really intrigued by it.”
Shifting Perspective is one of Ann’s paintings that, upon entering something of a perspective flow state, begins to feel like it’s moving. The painting was created by repainting the same shape in different positions in layers over itself. “It was a practice of thinking about an idea, then thinking of it in a new way. The ghost of that first thought stays, but it gets obfuscated by the new thought.”
Something Ann has learned upon her explorations of shape and movement is how to intuitively determine when a painting is finished. When painting a landscape, the work is done when the subject is complete, but with abstract art, it’s not as clear. This idea bleeds into the thoughts of her audience, who might try to figure out why she stopped where she did. Though other forms of art may seem more straightforward when it comes to their appreciation, her abstract pieces have the power to grant an entry point that isn’t so intimidating.
“There’s a pressure to understand art,” says Ann. “And people should be open to experiencing art whichever way they experience it. Their impression of that artwork is a perfectly valid way to experience it.”
Ann was recently awarded the Forward Art Prize, presented by the Women Artist Forward Fund (WAFF). Every year, this juried competition recognizes two women artists creating outstanding work in the visual arts in Dane County. Not only has the grant allowed Ann to expand her studio and invest in new materials, it’s also brought further recognition to her as an artist. Ann applauds WAFF’s efforts in raising the visibility of all women artists in Dane County.
Throughout her career, Ann has caught herself believing whatever series she’s currently working on will be the defining collection of her oeuvre only to discover the next career-defining leg of her journey halfway through. If anything serves as the hallmark of her work, it’s that perpetual creativity. When viewed individually, some of her work might be inspiring. Some of it might be confusing. Then you see it all together, and everything you felt starts to fit into a larger narrative. You’re left with a place to tuck in your bookmark until you once again find reason to turn the page.
Ann’s work can be found at Abel Contemporary Gallery, in Stoughton, and Cappaert Contemporary, in Egg Harbor. She’ll also be featured in a show opening May 2 at Blue Spiral 1, in Asheville, North Carolina. Visit annorlowski.com to see more of Ann’s portfolio.
