Abstract Expressions
Nathan Hall and Kevin Philip Williams: Abstract Expressions: Terrace Installation
Clyfford Still Museum
1250 Bannock Street, Denver, CO 80204
May 2023-ongoing
Admission: Adults: $10; Seniors (65+): $8; College Students and Teachers: $6; 17 and Under, Members, and Military: Free
Review by Raymundo Muñoz
Open to the public in early May, the Clyfford Still Museum presents Abstract Expressions, a terrace installation by composer Nathan Hall and Denver Botanic Gardens assistant curator and horticulturist Kevin Philip Williams. Not since the museum’s opening in 2011 have the terraces been revamped and reimagined, so the change is a welcome one. The new installation invites viewers to enjoy the second-level outdoor spaces with a multisensory experience of soundscapes and regionally relevant gardens inspired by the life and art of abstract expressionist Clyfford Still.
A detail view of Nathan Hall and Kevin Philip Williams’ Abstract Expressions installation on the west terrace of the Clyfford Still Museum, 2023. Image by Raymundo Muñoz.
It’s a special challenge to elevate the space beyond being just a pleasant architectural and landscaping feature; rather, the terraces become a transitional space that bridges outside with inside, Denver with distant locales, and Still’s work with that of contemporary cross-disciplinary artists. While not in full bloom when it opened in April, Abstract Expressions is a multi-year installation that promises to grow and change over time, beckoning visitors to return again and again.
The artist and composer Nathan Hall at the Clyfford Still Museum, 2023. Image by Fireside Production.
The collaboration was born from Hall’s previous Land Line Artist Residency at the Gardens, where the composer first worked with Williams, gathering field recordings of the gardens and grounds. In Abstract Expressions, Hall revives past recordings he composed and compiled in 2016 for CSM, offering loops of short excerpts from “The Soft Side of Still,” “Notes from Clyfford Still,” and parts of “20 Works In 20 Minutes.”
Those compositions were based on Still’s own dictaphone recordings, his diary notes, and visitors’ interpretations of his works, crafted by Hall into an engaging mix of classical music, choral arrangements, spoken word, and various audio elements. It’s hard not to compare the two uses of Hall’s recordings, however, as the initial performances had a much more direct and concentrated connection to Still’s work and life.
A view of the exterior of the west terrace at the Clyfford Still Museum, with a construction crane in the background. Image by Raymundo Muñoz.
In the newest iteration, upon entering the terraces, visitors activate a motion-sensor that triggers the soundscapes, though not immediately and definitely intermittently. Such design perhaps rewards the visitor that spends 10-15 minutes in each terrace; specifically, close to the speaker at a quiet time of day. Someone stepping outside for a quick breather, however, might just be startled by a crash of sounds and short musical samples—if they can discern them at all through the din of construction and city sounds. Technical gripes aside, Hall did make adept considerations regarding which sounds play in each terrace.
Nathan Hall and Kevin Philip Williams’ Abstract Expressions installation on the west terrace of the Still Museum in spring 2023. Image by Raymundo Muñoz.
On the west terrace adjacent to Bannock Street, Hall's soundscapes include long siren-like wails and clattery, martial percussion amid a rising swell of energetic and anxious staccato strings. With multiple, multilevel units coming up nearby, the noise and verve of the sound elements is well-matched to the cacophony of grinding metal, drilling, and rumbling diesel engines.
A view of Nathan Hall and Kevin Philip Williams’ Abstract Expressions installation on the shady east terrace of the Still Museum in spring 2023. Image by Raymundo Muñoz.
On the east terrace, nestled next to the Denver Art Museum’s hulking angular Hamilton Building, a different experience awaits. It's a shadowy space, cool, and much quieter than the street-side terrace. A steady whoosh and soft hum dominate the exterior aural landscape here. Inside the terrace, long, sinewy music winds its way up through the air, cutting through that soft drone. Funny woodwinds wobble and step with jaunty strings, and a sizzling and snaking sound simmers with no real rhythm, wavering and playful.
While the connection to Still isn't always apparent by listening alone, Hall's musical collages lend the gardens a sense of mysterious narrative and an emotional depth that would likely not exist were they gardens alone.
The horticulturist Kevin Philip Williams seated on the east terrace of the Still Museum in early 2023. Image by Fireside Production.
The gardens themselves, like Hall’s choice of sounds for each terrace, have their own personalities thanks to considerate curation by Williams. The horticulturist approached the gardens’ designs from a bioregional point of view, using common steppe/prairie plant species to connect Still’s early life (in Grandin, North Dakota; Spokane, Washington; and Bow Island, Alberta, Canada) with Denver (a city he never lived in). Having found around 300 common native species, Williams narrowed down his plant palette to about three dozen for the sunny west terrace and a dozen for the shadier east terrace.
A detail view of the plants in Nathan Hall and Kevin Philip Williams’ Abstract Expressions installation on the west terrace of the Still Museum, spring 2023. Image by Raymundo Muñoz.
As of early spring, a dense natural arrangement of humble native grasses and shrubbery comprises most of the west terrace garden, yet to reveal the brilliant wildflower blooms of late spring and summer. Imagine purple explosions of prairie onions, ghostly small-leaf pussytoes, and pink bursts of showy milkweed among fine shags of Rocky Mountain fescue, tufted foxtail barley, and the flamingo flamboyance of prairie smoke.
A view of the initial plantings in Nathan Hall and Kevin Philip Williams’ Abstract Expressions installation on the east terrace of the Still Museum, spring 2023. Image by Raymundo Muñoz.
In the more intimate east terrace, visitors will experience striking magenta bunches of strawberry blite, sweet Virginia strawberry, and alluring western blue violet among layers of triangular northern oak fern and other choice shade-loving prairie flora.
Clyfford Still, PH-417, 1946, oil on canvas, 39.75 x 28 inches. Image courtesy of Clyfford Still Museum.
Clyfford Still, PH-160, 1957, oil on canvas, 49 x 37.125 inches. Image courtesy of Clyfford Still Museum.
While Williams cites Still’s PH-417 (1946)—a rather dark and complex composition—and PH-160 (1957)—a striking piece of brilliant blues and whites—as inspirations for “energy and mood,” and not visual design, one can’t help but wonder if Still himself were inspired by the botanic bounty of his own surroundings. [1] Additionally, the gardens’ designs, much like Still’s abstract work, seem organized not by grid or gradient; rather they flow along in a natural way, respectful to and perhaps ultimately resembling the grasslands that Williams references.
A view of the initial plantings in Nathan Hall and Kevin Philip Williams’ Abstract Expressions installation on the west terrace of the Still Museum, spring 2023. Image courtesy of Raymundo Muñoz.
Altogether the combination of Williams’ verdant expressions and Hall’s sonic interpretations yields outdoor spaces that are contextually richer and more deeply rooted in fostering engagement with the Clyfford Still Museum’s indoor collection. As seasons change, too, so will the sights, sounds, and smells in Abstract Expressions. Tied to the cycle of growth and decay, guided in part by human collaborators—both individuals and institutions—and partly by mother nature herself, the last thing the terraces will be is still. They will be moving.
Raymundo Muñoz is a Denver-based printmaker and photographer. He is a current artist in residence at RedLine Contemporary Art Center and director/co-curator of Alto Gallery. Ray is guided by the principle that art is a bridge, and it connects us to ourselves and each other across time and space.
[1] From Nathan Hall’s statement about the work.
