Skip to main content

Gary Stephan

Untitled, 2007, acrylic on canvas, 20 x 20 in.


Early State - Pond Life, 2004, acrylic on canvas, 55 x 70 in.

Dorm, 2009, acrylic on canvas, 40 x 48 in.

Gary Stephan in his studio.

Painting of Paintings (light corners), 2009, acrylic on canvas, 76 x 86 in.

Untitled, 2007, acrylic on canvas, 50 x 42 in.

Stop Light, 2008, acrylic on canvas, 38 x 32 in.

Untitled, 2009, acrylic on canvas, 56 x 70 in.

Shipwreck- Early, 2005, acrylic on canvas, 56 x 70 in.

Untitled 2005, acrylic on canvas, 20 x 24 in.

Untitled, 2007, acrylic on canvas, 40 x 48 in.

Untitled, 2005, acrylic on canvas, 22 x 28 in.

Untitled (hybrid), 1988-2006, acrylic, cardboard, pushpin and canvas, 16 x 20 in.

Untitled, 2011, acrylic on canvas, 55 x 70 in.

Untitled, 2011, acrylic on canvas, 70 x 55 in.

Untitled, 2011, acrylic on canvas, 70 x 56 in.

Cypher - Syphon, 2011, acrylic on canvas, 70 x 50 in.



To view more of Gary Stephan's work follow the link here.
*All images © the artist.

Comments

Terry Greene said…
i will take great pleasure in looking at these works.
Paul Behnke said…
Check this out Terry...


http://www.gorkysgranddaughter.com/2012/02/gary-stephan-feb-2012.html

Popular posts from this blog

Retrospective: Sylvester Stallone - Paintings 1975 - 2015

Sylvester Stallone, Untitled (Michael Jackson) , 2010 Real Love: Paintings 1975 - 2015 Opened on May 16th Musée d'Art Moderne et d'Art Contemporaine Place Yves Klein 06364 Nice cedex 4 For more information visit artnet news .

Franz Kline: In Color

Franz Kline (1910-1962) is often pigeonholed as a "black and white" painter. Above is a selection of work by the Ab-Ex master in which color merges with gesture and at times takes center stage.

After Lorca By Ted Hughes

Arshile Gorky, Dark Green Painting , ca.1948, oil on canvas, 43 3/4 x 55 1/2 in. © 2009 Estate of Arshile Gorky/Artists Rights Society (ARS), New York. AFTER LORCA by Ted Hughes The clock says "When will it be morning?"   The sun says "Noon hurt me."  The river cries with its mouthful of mud  And the sea moves every way without moving. Out of my ear grew a reed   Never touched by mouth.  Paper yellows, even without flame,  But in words carbon has already become diamond. A supple river of mirrors I run on   Where great shadows rise to the glance,  Flowing all forward and bringing  The world through my reflection. A voice like a ghost that is not   Rustle that dead in passage  Leaving the living chilled,  Wipe clear the pure glass of stone. Wipe clear the pure stone of flesh. A son...