For me, this is a continuous challenge: how to enable the voice of the artwork to speak with pure grace and power (without the artist getting in the way). Sometimes the craft of artmaking helps and sometimes it gets in the way. ...sorry to bring up Diebenkorn again, but he has a nice quote about this... "I seem to have to do it elaborately wrong and with many conceits first. Then maybe I can attack and deflate my pomposity and arrive at something straight and simple."
I think I am also, at times, suspicious of extreme balance and beauty in art. So much of contemporary art is meant to hide or repress the humanness of the artist and the humanness of the viewer, as well. There's so much perfection, so much gloss. I love fragile lines or a raw surface or an awkward element that reveals vulnerability and humility.
Going in to the exhibit, I knew very little about Nan Tull's work (except that she made encaustic paintings). What I liked most about her work was the presence of what I can only describe as a kind of spiritual narrative. I felt it most in three of the "inheritence" pieces (the ones with an overall darker palette). I also especially loved her very simple amaryllis drawings in pencil. The thin lines of the amaryllis reminded me of Giacometti's thin standing figures...and the thin presence of a spirit.