(ab strak' tid)
The individuality of the artist as it translates his particular interests into the physical art object is filtered through the chosen technique. Steve Rockwell's Parallax I, II and III, with obsessive precision, reveals a logical, ordered, patient agency of human nature as, with a clear, clean, method; he challenges the perceptions. He provokes a number of responses that transpire as a run of revelations, each transformative step in the process being predictable, much like a ritual initiation. From a distance, the paper appears to carry an over-all colour field. Closer inspection reveals that the colour field is made up of thousands of minuscule circles or squares. A new aspect of the transformation now occurs as the painterly application of colour shows that each unit is hand painted and still retains the gesture of the application. These read as a seemingly infinite number of small and perfect paintings that are interesting in themselves, square inch by square inch, and yet also demanding an attention as to how each section relates to the whole.
The meditative repetition of this process also produces a sonorous effect on the spectator's eye. It is strenuous trying to discern the combinations of patterns, the links in directions and pathways that form the relationships between the individual units. So the final level left open to the spectator is one on which to de-focus, to rest in the fact that Rockwell has done the work, both mentally and physically, and it is time to enjoy the pleasure of a visual sensation.