In 1954, having witnessed the rise of American abstract expressionism in situ, Fernando Zóbel discovered the work of Mark Rothko. He proceeded to study this work intensively and—from these two experiences—arrived at the firm conclusion that nonfigurative art of a deep and lasting quality was indeed possible. He then spent the next two years exploring its realization, overcoming doubts and improbabilities, by producing—and later destroying—innumerable works. Until I discovered the theme and the technique that led to the series “Saetas”. With these words, Zóbel tells us that the process entailed more than the discovery of a theme. The theme is one of movement — of leaves, trees, people —expressed metaphorically by the use of the line; this movement is observed, felt, never imitated, but instead—I would hope —translated. In order to achieve this translation of movement, this marking of vibrations through the rhythm and trajectory of lines, Zóbel experimented with a wide range of brushes, including those used by some Chinese artists. In these cases, the ink was absorbed into the brush and then released by the artist through the controlled rhythm of his hand and the pressure he exerted on the brush. Zóbel’s observations led him to devise a simple and straight forward, hence brilliant, technique by using surgical glass syringes to control the long, fine lines he traced on the canvas. The method was seemingly easy but in reality, difficult to control and execute. Nonetheless, Zóbel mastered the technique as effectively as if he were using a brush, and he relied on itexclusively throughout his long career. Given these experiences and considering Zóbel’s contemporaneity to American abstract expressionism, it is not surprising that he should be associated with Pollock, de Kooning, Kline (his gesturalism), and the European artists Hartung and Matthieu. Yet, despite these potential associations evident in Zóbel’s use of lines, the interactions occurring between them, and the speed of execution that marks his works, his paintings do not project the same dramatic expressionism. Instead, they convey a serenity more conducive to contemplation than to opinion. Still, Zóbel’s search for a theme was not isolated within his inquiry into the art of his time. In fact, it arose out of his attentiveness to the past, a constant concern of his artistic career (he would be one of the last artist/scholars of Art history). Notably, in 1957, at the time of his groundbreaking exhibit at the pioneering Philippine Art Gallery (PAG), when he first showed his Saetas, we notice an intensification of his interest in ancient Philippine art. (He published an article about silver votives from the Ilocos regionthat same year.) In addition, while he was working on “Saeta 52” or “Pared Madrileña”, Zóbel initiated archeological excavations in Calatagan, which yielded a vast number of Chinese porcelain artifacts. Their study heightened his passion for Asian art and calligraphy. As Zóbel himself would tell us, their influence on the Saetas is undeniable: “My paintings of movement are intimately associated with Asian art. We should point out that most of the saetas are small-scale works (approx. 61 x 92 cm.); only ten can be considered large, the majority of which are found in public collections and museums. The Saetas series found its inspiration in Japanese sand gardens. All those lines drawn meticulously with a fine rake have a disquieting effect.” In 1958, the year of “Saeta 52”, Zóbel began taking lessons in Chinese calligraphy from Shanghai professor Ch’en Bing Sun. In a letter to a friend, he comments: “I am learning to read (not speak) and write Chinese (...) It is an ideal exercise for a painter; if you manage to control a Chinese brush, you can control anything.” Also in 1958, Zóbel was named honorary curator of the National Museum of the Philippines. In “Saeta 52”, a major work by a mature and proven painter, we detectinchoate Asian influences throughsuggestions of Chinese calligraphy found in the artist’s controlled tracings. Zóbel rehearsed his lines over and over on paper and essayed numerous drawings before executing them on the canvas. As Magaz Sangro tells us in the catalogue he authored for Zóbel’s first exhibition of abstract work in Spain: “In such a way that the effect is that of a coherent whole, trained (as when writing) and articulated from the minutest detail to the unified whole, every element subject to order and a rare sense of proportion, considering the degree of exactitude and suitability.”This unique sense of space, composition, color, and gesture are precisely the characteristics that would always define Zóbel’s style and language as a painter. We should recall that Zóbel’s oeuvre consists mostly of color paintings. While the line, movement, and calligraphic feature werevital elements of his work, color playedan essential role, as well,throughout his artistic career. “Saeta 52” was acquired at the time of its first exhibit in the now legendary PAG. It has been a pleasure to rediscover it 60 years later in a perfect state of conservation. Zóbel’s knowledge in this area was such that he would not hesitate to use yellows, pinks, greens, reds, and other colors, in the way his reveredRothko did, even though they presented patent challenges to other artists. Interestingly, Zóbel’s formal education and artistic training unfolded within the confines of academia, whose canons represented the opposite of what he would pursue in practice. These circumstances, and others mentioned earlier, explain why his encounter with Rothko was so significant: it confirmed Zóbel’s decision to conceive a new nonfigurative way and pursue the spirituality of color outside the boundaries of representational art. In addition, helearned how Rothko imbued his colors with their characteristic depth and warmth by using an entirely classical technique, that of superimposing colors to arrive at a desired shade. This was not unlike the traditional practice of glazing, which consisted of layering coats of paint in pursuit of a particular effect. Zóbel was, of course, acquaintedwith this age-old technique and had used it himself, but after his encounter with Rothko, he would rely on it almost exclusively for his color work. In conclusion, based on the premises elaborated thus far, we can say that “Saeta 52”, also titled “Pared Madrileña”, is one of Zóbel’s most interesting and complete works. It reveals with clarity the pillars on which he built and consolidated his art. On the one hand, we see the formal structure of lines created by his syringe (there is nothing capricious about them); on the other, we face the bold backdrop of colors, barely perceived mauves, reds, aquamarine blues, browns, etc., out of which a situational space is formed. Here Zóbel offers hisattempt at a response to that question first articulated by the Renaissancemasters he greatly admired: how to create space within the bounds of a bi-dimensional canvas. It was Zóbel himself who opted to include “Saeta 52” in his exhibit Zóbel. Paintings/Schneidam. Sculptures held at the PAG from February 8 to 17, 1958. The work is dated January 19 and thus was obviously completed only a few days before the exhibit. Zóbelwas intent on displaying this large-scale saeta on that occasion; he succeeded in doing so. “Saeta 52” offers us guidelines to discern the intellectual and perceptual influences that were foundational to Zóbel’s career. His training and education were steeped in a knowledge of Western culture, yet he embraced the rich Eastern tradition manifested in his calligraphic gestures, those fine lines characterized by movement and speed. As noted earlier, Zóbel essayed his works in numerous drawings, sketch after sketch, before turning his attention to the canvas. In this, too, he was following an Asian tradition of laborious and persistent repetition meant to carry the line, the gesture, the color to a precise place in the work. Rafael Pérez-Madero, July 2018