The show features just a mural and two canvases by Ostendarp, mounted alongside several prints and drawings from RISD's collection by artists whose work has influenced his, such as Andy Warhol and Jean Arp. Artists who have pulled him up.
The exhibit is like a cocktail party crowded with people in the know - winks and inside jokes whip around the room. At the same time, with its urbane but rocking soundtrack and its revelry in gorgeous color, jazzy gestures, and Pop aesthetics, it's the kind of party where anyone would feel welcome. Most of the work comes from the 1960s and '70s, when Pop and Minimalism deflated the bloated self-importance Abstract Impressionism had taken on and liberated artists to borrow from pop culture, work in multiples, and pare down to the bare bones of visual language.
Ostendarp's own work has a graphic, comic-book punch, with pulsing tones and bold, iconic images. He uses text in the two paintings here, "Aaarrgh" and "Yaaah," in which the words tumble down canvases in shades of orange and salmon pink. The mural coats the gallery in that same pink, as if a behemoth of a house painter has thrown a giant bucket of the stuff at the wall and let it ooze nearly to the bottom, where it ends, undulant, above the orange along the base. Wall text calls it a "drip" wall mural, in a nod to Jackson Pollock, but if this is one of Pollock's drips, it has grown so large that we can't see beyond its edges.
Ostendarp has always been an art-world insider; he broke onto the scene in the early 1990s with ironic, out-of-proportion send-ups of color-field painters and Expressionists, and this isn't the first show he has curated exploring his aesthetic family tree. We see a little Pollock in his work, a good dose of Roy Lichtenstein, and some tone-contrast experiments that recall Josef Albers's concentric square works. They're all represented here, and more.
Lichtenstein's "Quiet Sea and Sky" (1965), a fresh and unexpected abstract landscape from the king of cartoons, is made of mylar and a reflective plastic film, divided by a horizon line in the artist's familiar dot pattern - a duotone piece that echoes and literally mirrors Ostendarp's mural. A vaporous, untitled 1970 screenprint by color field maven Jules Olitski takes Ostendarp's warm, flat palate and breathes spaciousness into it.