Rosemarie Castoro Flashers

Rosemarie Castoro’s figurative black forms made of galvanized steel have been described as looking like “cowled monks” from the rear and “open raincoats” from the front. At their simplest, the sculptures are a humorous commentary on figurative art in a time in the art world when the term figurative has been a dirty word.

In an October 30, 1981 New York Times story, Vivien Raynor described Castoro (1939–2015, b. New York City, NY) as a “sculptor who is also a part painter. [Flashers] shows a decade of black-and-white work. Earlier pieces include two screens whose surfaces are brushed rhythmically in white modeling paste that, in turn, is smeared with graphite. Following these are similarly treated swirl shapes reminiscent of Roy Lichtenstein’s cartoon brushstroke, except that they have been cut, miraculously, from that intractable substance Masonite. Five of these strokes in various lengths emanate from a corner of the gallery, rippling along the wall. But the dominant work is Two Flashers, consisting of a pair of seven-foot-tall sheets of galvanized steel painted black.”