Their beauty comes from "the volatile mix of the ineffable and the physical," writes Ross Bleckner, the Minimalist artist who has been a friend and mentor to Freeman since he took up the paintbrush, in an introduction to the catalog for the upcoming show of Freeman’s work at the Bjorn Wetterling gallery in Stockholm. "The beauty of these paintings is that they so succinctly and clearly seem to reconcile those two worlds."
Nursing a cup of hot chocolate in a SoHo cafe on a frigid day, Freeman, 32, is surprisingly self-composed for a young artist on the cusp of a career turning point. The Wetterling show opens Thursday and will be followed by a solo show at the Mary Boone Gallery here in September. His paintings are collected by people like Kelly Klein and Stormy Byorum, and his company is sought by Calvin Klein and Bob Colacello.
Yet Freeman is unpretentious, even slightly apologetic, about his growing success.
"I’ve been painting seriously for 10 years," he says. "I wasn’t an overnight sensation. People want instant recognition. They’re part of the scene and want to be hot really fast, which is fine. That’s not really my thing so much."
Freeman’s paintings, which have elicited comparisons to James Turrell’s Minimalist sculptures and Robert Ryman’s monochromism, are influenced by the light and flatness of East Hampton, where he works in a studio near the airport. His paintings are abstract and atmospheric, at times suggesting misty clouds and fading light. Some of the large-scale canvases have deeper bands of color vibrating across the surface.
"I like bright colors and colors that are a little bit artificial looking," Freeman says. "I want them to seem at first very natural and then to seem inorganic. They pulsate a little. When I start a painting I have an idea of a certain sensation I want to convey. As the painting evolves, it kind of takes on a life of its own. It becomes a fantasy. It’s not concrete, it’s a little more intangible."