These silkscreens are based on six of Jackson’s ‘Black Paintings’ of 1951, and were made with the help of his technically proficient brother Sanford McCoy. They are in mint condition and are the last complete set. These images, energetic, supra-human, mythic, were what Pollock had admired in the Mexican muralists. When asked what for him was the greatest painting in America he replied José Clemente Orozco’s Prometheus mural at Pomona College in Claremont, CA – a dense, airless composition with slicing, intersecting, diagonal forms dominated by a heroic nude. The images are expressionistic (painting out of his unconscious), dark (given his depression), and forceful (expressions of his fragile conviction of superior talent and using reserves of experience and skill that he had matured over more than a decade). They have control, but also spontaneity, ‘accident’ (a circular drop jumps to life as an eye for example), and a hyper-active variety of marks and lines. Whatever the observer brings to interpreting them, whatever figures may emerge, these are undeniably powerful. We must imagine him in conversation with Sanford, thoughtfully selecting six paintings to reproduce. They were more or less similar in scale, though their dimensions varied. Three vertical format and three broad format images are shrunk by approximately 60-70%. The sheets, unlike the canvases, have precisely the same dimensions. Pollock has foregone the fully immersive visual field of the large poured paintings, something that was, for critics in the 1950s and still today, a defining feature of the new American painting. Size ceases to matter. Jason McCoy learned from his father Sanford that their intention (Sanford’s and Jackson’s) was that the suite should remain together (although it did not turn out this way). The prints were to be numbered and signed as they were sold, but numbering was not a priority. Owners could frame and then hang them in any order they wished. The images could talk to each other, change by contiguity, profess their differences, and share their similarities. The relations of figure to ground are varied, complex, even ambiguous. ‘Figures’ are sometimes reserved on the white paper, with black counting as filled-in dark ground, or as contour, emphasis and shadow. But this is not consistent. Sometimes a ‘figure’ asserts itself as black against a white ground. The Picasso-like blots and lines of marsh flora on the left side of Number 7 are the most obvious example of the latter. The vertical prints are unified as dense, black ground pictures, while in the horizontal formats white oxygenates the composition. In 1953 the motifs of Number 27, in a rare case for Pollock of the reworking of an earlier idea, reappeared in Portrait and a Dream (Museum of Fine Arts, Dallas). The title of the latter would seem to authorize the interpretation of the former as a standoff between outward appearance (the portrait) and inward mental activity (the dream). That the left side of the Number 27, 1951 painting configures a crouched, heavily built nude does not necessarily preclude ‘mental activity’. Automatism still has a tempered role, but the translation of these paintings into prints – uniform in texture, chroma, and size – diffuses the existential drama in favor of image-making: cogitated, selected and released for sale as a ‘certificate’ of completeness. Pollock’s decision to make these prints renders palpable the change in his approach to painting in 1951. Philip Rylands 70 Jackson Pollock