​JOHN MILLER  ISSUE #41  SEPTEMBER 1999 (Excerpt)


John M. Miller's abstractions have been quietly and persistently celebrated by crit­ics, curators, collectors and fellow paint­ers for nearly three decades. Quiet persis­tence can also be used to describe the way the subtle substance of his paintings re­veals itself to you. Interviewing

Mr. Miller was fun and grueling. Using words, we surfed over ideas and intentions that are notorious for eluding description and yet easily accessed through the kind of expe­rience that comes from a prolonged and dedicated dialogue with the essence of cre­ative intention. His description of his ef­fort was similar to the effort involved in the Zen meditations of some monk friends of mine.

Coagula: You have been repeating the same format and imagery since 1972. That's almost thirty years! What is it about this work that sustains your commitment?
John M. Miller: There's an implication that not much has changed from one point to an­other point in time. There's a sense that the uniqueness of this particular structure has be­come a signature, which denies the reality of what is actually happening in the individual works. Consider the notion that the structure plane that I have been dealing with all these years is a plane that is continuous and concep­tually everywhere. In the beginning the center­ing area would be very calm creating a conflict with the chaos on the edge. The resolution of that conflict was the beginning of a dialogue that continues to this day.


Coagula: One of the experiences I have while look­ing at your work is the perception of an area of stillness surrounded by vibrating energy. How did you come to the decisions about your format?
JMM: I was drawing the lattice structures on the canvas in the early 70's and measuring the rectangles inside. I had no control over the edge. It wasn't until the late 70's that I made the decision to create a dialogue of symmetry so that what was on the left side was in dia­logue with what was on the right side. I wanted the physicality of its relationship with the viewer to be predicated on decisions I made about proportion rather than scale. Painting has parameters in terms of light, structure, propor­tion .. Using these elements I wanted to engage not only the mind but the body in terms of the physicality so the paintings have a sense of the familiar. All painters make marks. But in ab­stract painting this prelinguistic act is a prior­ity. The goal of making a mark being to iden­tify yourself with the singularity of it all.


Coagula:  What do you mean when you're talking about singularity?
JMM: All things are interconnected. In these paintings I wish to bring the viewer to the experience of it within them­selves. I have done this by making decisions regarding proportion, the marks in relationship to the edge, the size of the work and the color. This containment presents a continuum that exists everywhere and within it you are ulti­mately dealing with the paradox of time itself. It's all over and yet contained in a moment. Not a moment that is static but in flux. It's merely the silence of the episode, of the en­gagement. It presents itself and you as the par­ticipant. It's just a very individual silent place to go.


Coagula:  Sometimes it sounds as if you are talking about a transcendant state.
JMM: Ideally. I became an abstract painter be­cause I was looking for an art I could learn from. You are really trying to finds its voice. Every­thing about the painting that needs to exist in a particular kind of clarity is the same need that demands the painter to let go and merely expe­rience its arrival. That is where its voice is.


Coagula: It's interesting that you say that because I started painting late, I was twenty-nine. I was self-taught and very full of myself.
JMM: You have to be to be a painter!


Coagula: Even though I was self-taught I had very strong instincts and opinions about what paint­ing was. I felt that painting involved the expe­rience of a kind of relationship between me and the actual act or process of painting. I was en­gaged in a process that had its own rules or pa­rameters or its own way of being. I had to meet it half way. Find a way to let "it' happen as opposed to imposing myself on it. Not un­like a real relationship. The longer I work at it the stronger the relationship becomes. The stronger the dialogue. The more the activity lends itself to the manifestation of "it".
JMM: In its rather organic process where clear questions arise, the emphasis is not on the cre­ator but rather the need for the creation to exist. It's a moral issue because I wish to affect the viewer. So I also think it's an issue of trying to get to the spirit within.