Larry Bell’s Art Through the Looking Glass 

TAOS, New Mexico — “Enjoy your time here,” Larry Bell tells me with an encouraging smile. He steps away, leaving me to explore one of his captivating Light Knot sculptures, an intricate piece formed from thin layers of polyester coated with aluminum and silicon monoxide. Hanging from the ceiling, it gently sways, creating a mesmerizing display as a small projector illuminates it, casting light that seems to dance across its intricate surface at breathtaking speed.

To my immediate left, a framed collage catches my eye—a composition crafted from flattened layers of the same materials featured in the Light Knot series. The room is also rich with bronze figurative sculptures, stemming from Bell’s collaboration with the renowned architect Frank Gehry.

Venturing deeper into the expansive two-story industrial warehouse that serves as Bell’s studio, I find an impressive collection of his iconic glass cubes, with each piece reflecting his almost seven decades of artistic exploration. As a towering figure in the Light and Space movement, Larry Bell continues to inspire artists across the globe. He describes his creative process as one rooted in improvisation, intuition, and a deep-seated trust in spontaneity. “Improbable” is a term he cherishes, embodying the essence of his artistic engagement.

In late September, Manhattan’s Madison Square Park Conservancy is set to unveil Improvisations in the Park, Bell’s most significant public art project to date, featuring a series of six large-scale works. His art will also be showcased this fall in solo exhibitions at the Judd Foundation in New York City, the San Antonio Museum of Art, and the Richard Levy Gallery in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

In anticipation of these exhibitions, Bell graciously welcomed me to one of his two studios in Taos, New Mexico. As I wandered through the space, our conversation unfolded, touching on various aspects of his storied career.

Hyperallergic: Witnessing so many of your classic glass cubes together is quite impactful. How do you encapsulate a lifetime of artistic endeavor?

Larry Bell: At the core of my work, there’s a recurring interest in right angles. I often think this stems from the overwhelming presence of right angles in our environment. Try to count the number of right angles in your field of vision—it’s astonishing how they’re ingrained in our everyday experience and how they affect our emotions.

My interest in corners might also trace back to my childhood experiences. As a child who was deaf at the time of diagnosis, I was often left out or punished for not responding. Consequently, I developed a fascination with corners—a space I often found myself in. It’s about playing the cards you are dealt, embracing what works.

H: Your attraction to glass appears to amplify your artistic possibilities. Can you elaborate on that?

LB: Certainly. My journey with glass began at the picture-framing shop in Los Angeles shortly after art school. Learning to cut glass not only fulfilled a practical need but also opened up a world of exploration. Glass captivates me—it reflects, transmits, and absorbs light concurrently, an engaging medium with boundless possibilities. Rather than chase the tails of abstract expressionism legends like de Kooning and Rothko, I pursued the essence of glass itself and what unique paths it might lead me down.

H: Reflecting on your early days with glass, did you anticipate becoming a key figure in the Light and Space art movement?

LB: Not at all. I simply followed a disciplined path inspired by mentors in my circle. My hope was to contribute something meaningful. The ability to create work that was distinct and innovative was paramount. surrounded by individuals with extraordinary humor and creativity, I sought to forge a unique aesthetic that neither imitated nor duplicated anyone else’s work.

H: What was the feedback like when your early exhibitions were showcased at venues like the Ferus Gallery and others?

LB: The opinions that mattered most were those of my mentors, such as Ken Price and Robert Irwin. If they had dismissed my efforts, it would have been deeply disheartening. Fortunately, they were always supportive, creating an atmosphere of camaraderie that I tremendously valued.

H: Do you feel you are mentoring younger artists today?

LB: I hesitate to label what I do as mentorship. I prefer to focus on my own artistic journey. If my works inspire communities or groups of people, so be it—that is a natural progression. I’ve never sought out followers or ‘groupies.’

H: Regarding your project in Madison Square Park, how did you approach this large-scale public art installation?

LB: I am grateful for the opportunity to create such a project. It’s entirely different from anything I’ve done before. Engineers are ensuring the plinths are secure and stable—I’m confident they’ll present my work well. However, I recognize the unpredictable nature of outdoor installations—anything can happen.

H: How do you expect your materials will interact with light in Madison Square Park?

LB: Glass inherently reflects, transmits, and absorbs light, resulting in a dynamic interplay with the surrounding environment.

H: (Laughs) True! Speaking of colors, do you rely on the light spectrum interacting with the glass or do you use pigmented film?

LB: Every piece of glass in this studio is coated in a way that enhances its optical properties. In some instances, we’ve coated just the inside, others only the outside, and sometimes both. The color in many of my pieces originates from films placed between layers of glass, which interfere with light at specific wavelengths, similar to how a gasoline puddle produces rainbow colors.

The pieces being installed in Madison Square Park differ; they feature laminated glass, clear in nature, where the color lies within the interlayer that bonds two sheets together. In orchestrating these sculptures, my role is minimal—aside from directing the dimensions and weight I desire from the glass manufacturers.

H: Do you have a favorite color?

LB: No, not really, but I do have a favorite feeling, which I can’t quite articulate. It refers to a sense of success achieved through my endeavors, leading to subsequent insights. I perceive art not merely as material, but as a teacher—it has guided me throughout my life.

H: Regarding your recent two-dimensional collages in the Irresponsible Iridescence exhibition at the Judd Foundation, what inspired their creation?

LB: Everything I create is an experiment, and those collages are extensions of that spirit. They are visually intriguing and serve as tangible artifacts of my explorations. I harness an array of materials, which include gessoed canvas and laminated films metallized with silicon monoxide. I’m still grappling with the texture and surface that emerged during construction, yet their pairing creates a narrative of sorts.

The metallic elements I manipulate evaporate at high temperatures and form crystalline structures as they settle onto surfaces. The unpredictable nature of this process fascinates me as it develops optical characteristics that are enriching to both the works and their viewers.

H: Do you ever tire of discussing your methods and processes?

LB: Not when the conversation is as engaging as this one.

H: I have come across your references to self-trust in your interviews. Is that still a guiding principle?

LB: Absolutely! After spending over 66 years in my studio, nearly every day, engaging with the materials I use sparks an insatiable curiosity for further exploration. It’s an addiction that keeps propelling me to uncover more.