HARMONIOUS ABSTRACTION
New York, April 2025
In a world dominated by digital interaction, REBECCA WARD’s aesthetically engaging work demands to be experienced in person, as she leans into the physicality of painting, sculpture, and craft. The Texan artist based in New York, experiments in abstraction and the subconscious mind, exploring interactions of colour and mathematical form, across deconstructed and reassembled canvases, to create multidimensional works which articulate and manifest a kind of harmonious freedom. Her works allow enough space so that the viewer can enter them, vibrating with an energy and presence that evocatively plays with any desire to imbue them with meaning.
The expansive nature of her practice now turns to blurring the lines between the inexplicable, the intangible and the ethereal, in her latest series, Vector Specter, which delves into her conceptual process and shifting thoughts on liminal spaces and the unknown.
Over a zoom call post-opening of her new exhibition at Peter Blum Gallery, she explained why she continues to challenge what the idea of a painting could be, and how motherhood has brought more of an urgency to her ideas.
Right Phenomenomena, 2025, acrylic and dye on stitched canvas
Tell me about your new show, Vector Specter. What was the inspiration behind this series and the title?
I wanted a title that spoke about my process conceptually, so the ‘vector’ part is based on my drawings which I do digitally, from my background as a graphic designer. When you’re playing around with vectors in a programme like Illustrator, I use a lot of transparency and layer shapes over each other and play around with these geometric images to see what emerges from the shapes. The ‘specter’ part is me thinking more about things that are inexplicable, things we maybe have data for but cannot see; my previous show focused on graphs and wavelengths like sound and light waves, and that began to shift my thinking about liminal spaces and the unknown. I think that’s a fruitful subject matter for abstraction, so it makes sense to bring these shadowy spaces into play in the work.
Left Bite marks II, details, 2025, acrylic and dye on stitched canvas
There are 10 paintings in this collection. Did the gallery space inform what works you made, and did you know from the off how you wanted to present them?
Well, I don’t always have a starting point, but with this show, I began to imagine the colours, sizes and dimensions of the works in each room for the exhibition, and I knew exactly what works would be on display – however, I didn’t know which ones would be diptychs and triptychs. I knew that the gallery had two spaces, and so that changed the work I made, and I wanted the sizes and dimensions of the works to change as you travel through the space, and then the rooms became specific according to colour and how they would interact with one another.
Nearing the end of the process of making them, was there a moment where you felt like, “Okay, these are done. I’m ready to show these to the world.?” Or do you never feel like that, and are always wanting to tinker more?
I would say there’s a definitive moment when I’m done, but I’m always a little terrified to show them to the world, especially if they involve new ideas or moves and concepts. It’s weird to have a painting that feels so representative of yourself, they represent thoughts and beliefs and labour, they’re important, so it’s hard to put yourself out there on a stage but it’s also a privilege to share my thoughts.
Was there one specific piece that you made of these 10 that has added weight, or emotional or personal significance to you?
The black diptych in the show carries the most personal significance, as between this show and the last, my second child was born. The last show had a lot of graphs and references to bodies and pregnant bodies, and the experience of becoming a parent, such as ultrasounds and seeing your child emerge through this dark space that is the womb.
Since the previous work included references to waveforms and graphs, I became fascinated by the ultrasound. It's an image created by soundwaves and crystals which sounds a little woo woo and magical [laughs], but it’s how it works and that inspired me to have this image that comes from sound. So that diptych in the show comes from the geometrical shape of light that’s cast in an ultrasound, and I also thought it was interesting to use black as a colour for a piece about a baby, as that’s not really a colour you associate with children.
Left and right Soft landing, details, 2024, acrylic and dye on stitched canvas
This series is a continuation of your exploring the canvas as a physical object. Is part of your manipulation of the canvas to challenge people’s conception of art?
When I originally started to make these works where I was taking the thread out of the canvas, I wanted to challenge the idea of what a painting could be. When I first came to New York, I never expected to be a painter, but I became obsessed with the materiality of painting, and the different ways a painting is constructed in the process; the stretching, letting the paint dry, all the mediums you mix into it. Initially I was doing a lot of experimentation with different materials, and creative painting, so removing the threads was just one of the experiments that emerged. Process and deconstruction are somehow reflective of all I am as a queer person, part of my nature is to want to dismantle something first and then put it back together, so for me it’s about breaking something apart to be able to understand it.
Right Sea creature, 2024, acrylic and dye on stitched canvas and linen
What about your use of colour – I’m curious to know what inspires the palettes you choose and if they are personal to you in any way?
I find it hard to talk about colour because my use of it is largely intuitive and based on my subconscious. For this show I wanted to choose complimentary colours that could exist within a room, like vibrant tones of green and red next to softer pastels, that seemed an interesting statement about colour for a viewing experience. I also wanted to make a point about colour, because some of the works use the same lines and shapes, but they’re completely different colours, to show that it does evoke and drive an emotional response.
When you have an idea, what is the process like for its articulation, for building the painting? Are you doing it all in a few sessions, or are you working on something over months, or working on multiple pieces at a time?
I like to be efficient, because I work by myself, I don’t have any assistants, and with two kids, I don’t have any time! So, in my studio space I work on multiple pieces at a time, working on the drawings first, then removing the threads from the canvas portions, then I project the drawing onto the wall and trace it and make a pattern for it. I then cut up the fabric, paint it, dye the thread and then sew and stretch everything. It requires a lot of different set ups, and it’s better to work that way when I can, and the largest works in this new show each took a month to complete. The studio is small, but I like the restraints it presents to me.
When you’re in your studio, are you listening to music while you work, or are you in complete silence?
Well, my studio is in my back yard in New York, we have double garage that I converted and although I would love to have a studio immersed in a natural setting, this is where I am for now. Most of the time I work in silence because I really enjoy it, in comparison with how the rest of my life is, having two kids it’s often chaotic!
I rarely listen to music because I get emotionally involved with what the music is and I have a hard time being pulled in one emotional direction, just because of what’s playing. I listen to podcasts more often, and when I started this body of work for Vector Specter, I had just turned 40, and was having an existential moment of, ‘Oh my god, I’m past the halfway point of life, if I’m lucky’ [laughs]. So, I started listening to podcasts that merge psychics and spirituality, as it made a lot of sense with this in between space that I began thinking about for these new pieces, and that’s where the shadowy paintings with gradients come from.
I’ve got to be careful what I let into my brain as it does tend to have a way of coming through in the work, even if it was unintentional, but who knows, maybe at some point, my mid-life crisis will come into too! [laughs]
Left Hunger, 2025, acrylic and dye on stitched canvas
Right Shy guy, 2025, acrylic and dye on stitched canvas and linen
Have you ever thought that you might be building your own world within your paintings? Perhaps the lines, forms, curves and shapes are a mapping of the people in your life, making sense of impressions, of little moments and things that add up to something?
I don’t think I’m building my own world, but I do get really lost in the drawings, in a way that I feel I’m in another dimension or space. I hope that I’m approaching something in abstraction that’s otherwise inexplicable or intangible, difficult to describe. I think it is a representation of my subconscious in a way.
Exhibition view of Vector Specter by Rebecca Ward at Peter Blum Gallery in New York
So, how did you become interested in art, was it part of your childhood?
I was born in a small town in Texas, and I was interested in art, and used to paint as a young kid. But I started going to Europe in the Summer, working on summer camps as a counsellor, and it was then that I became obsessed with European culture and went to Paris a lot and was enraptured by the museums there, like Boberg and the Pompidou. Modern art just drew me in, because of the colours, and that cosmopolitan life felt like who I am inside, and I had to get out of my small Texas town and continue working on my art – I pursued it over the years until the point it became this undeniable part of myself.
Left and right Open secret, details, 2025, acrylic and dye on stitched canvas
Has becoming a parent changed the way you work and the art itself?
I think I’ve become more appreciative of my work; it feels like a retreat more than a job, like a sacred space I’m so thankful to have. As you get older it’s a privilege to be able to speak and share your ideas, and for people to want to hear what you have to say. So, I feel less timid about saying what’s in my head nowadays. Becoming a parent, I would say has also meant that ideas become more urgent and how you process time in your life, because you have less time overall to dedicate to your work, so it makes it more valuable.
Exhibition view of Vector Specter by Rebecca Ward at Peter Blum Gallery in New York
What is it about creating that you love?
It’s this space set aside where you have the privilege of showcasing your ideas and I love the freedom that I have making the work and making creative decisions daily. I also really enjoy sharing ideas with others and the conversations that emerge from those exchanges, and immersing myself in the ideas of others is a luxury I’m grateful to have.
Vector Specter by Rebecca Ward is on view at Peter Blum Gallery in New York from April 5 to May 31, 2025.
Interview by Kate Lawson
All images Courtesy of the artist and Peter Blum Gallery, New York