My Case Study: Helen Frankenthaler's Art and the Quiet Power of Confidence

Helen Frankenthaler, an abstract expressionist known for her "color field paintings", has captivated me for years.

I was first introduced to Frankenthaler’s work in an art history course, and immediately felt drawn in. I still regularly visit one of her pieces at the Des Moines Art Center, and I have spent a lot of time trying to understand why her work feels so magnetic to me.

Sky Farm, Helen Frankenthaler 1972. How I would love to paint something this gently beautiful and say, "That's enough." A painting I regularly visit at the Des Moines Art Center.

In the same lens that I use to study how art provides psychological counterbalances for others, here is my personal case study on how Frankenthaler's work speaks to the deepest parts of my spirit.

Confidence Without Overstating

The first thing that struck me about Helen Frankenthaler’s art was its sheer confidence. It doesn’t need to shout. It doesn’t need to prove immense technical skill. It is quietly beautiful. It simply is.

That kind of effortless assurance has always been a challenge for me. Throughout my life, I felt the need to constantly prove myself — my skills, my intelligence, my worth. Even in my own artwork, you can often see a hyperactive quality: every inch packed with beauty, trying to win your awe.

Frankenthaler’s paintings showed me something different:

• That quiet magnificence could exist.

• That subtlety could be powerful.

• That I didn’t have to keep pushing and polishing past the point of meaning.

  
  

This is the same tension I work on within myself: learning that "good enough" is enough, and that perfectionism is often the enemy of completion, joy, and peace.

Frankenthaler’s work is not only beautiful — it has been a gentle mentor to me over the years.

The Ephemeral and the Spiritual

Another aspect of Frankenthaler’s work that speaks to me — though I had to wrestle with it — is its ephemeral nature.

Most paintings are created on canvas prepared with gesso (rabbit-skin glue and marble dust), a base that makes the surface archival. Frankenthaler refused that standard. She chose to work on untreated canvas, even when her agents and galleries pressured her to change.

The result? Her paintings will naturally age, fade, and degrade over time.

At first, that bothered me. But the more I sat with it, the more I realized the immense wisdom in it. Her work accepts impermanence — and embraces the truth that nothing, not even great art, is eternal.

That idea — the flow of all things, the beauty of passing moments — has slowly become a deep part of my own spirituality.

Art Speaks Before We Understand

Did I consciously know all of this when I first loved her work, more than 14 years ago?

No. I had no idea.

Art speaks to us long before we can put it into words.

If you find yourself drawn to a particular work or artist without knowing why — trust it. Give it space in your life. It may be offering exactly the counterbalance, healing, or wisdom that your soul is longing for.

If you’re intrigued by how art can provide a counterbalance to other areas of life, you may enjoy reading my previous post on interacting with art in a more intentional way, where I delve into using art to complement different energies in your life.

Has Helen Frankenthaler's work spoken to you in a similar way? In a different way? Let me know.