The colors of Morton Bradley Jr.

Dozens of law students read from enormous tomes while a collection of spiky, colorful objects suspended by wire from the ceiling three stories above quietly rotate. I have walked past the sign on the door of the Law Library warning pesky undergraduates to keep out.

I have ascended the lightly stained wood stairs and now peer out at these pleasantly regular yet surprising works of art. I admire the intricately balanced color scheme which complements the complex symmetries of form. But I am the only one to notice these blueprints of stars from a universe more ordered than ours.

The geometric sculptures of Morton C. Bradley Jr. form my favorite collection of art owned by IU. They pique my imagination not just as a math major but as a human.

I love trying to uncover the structure behind the work. I circle underneath, staring at the backbone (is it a stellated dodecahedron?) while being stared at by those who have lifted their eyes away from their laptops long enough to notice me.

A friend and I received equally curious glances from seemingly apathetic MBA students when we made a pilgrimage last week to view the Bradley sculptures above the stairwell in the graduate side of Kelley School of Business.

We discovered Bradley’s use of negative space, highlighted by the white wall behind the sculptures. This phenomenon was especially striking with one particular piece, an example of what Bradley termed a constellation — a grouping of star-like objects which collaborate to yield an emergent form.

Only when viewed at certain angles, a pair of arrows pointing in opposite directions appeared, as if some cosmic coincidence had fated these reddish stars to align in perfect syzygy.

There are only five completely regular three-dimensional solids, the so-called Platonic solids. Every (finite) rotational symmetry in space is built from the symmetries of these solids (or the symmetries of a 2-D regular polygon).

Sculpture limited to strictly regular forms would be boring. Instead, there must be some surprise, some artistic twist to the geometry.

While Bradley draws extensively from the Platonic forms (especially the dodecahedron and its dual, the icosahedron), he also explores a tremendous range of variations. He uses curves, truncations, stellations, self-intersections, twists and most importantly, color.

Bradley was a color scientist. He systematically investigated the relationships between colors and created “color orders” — indices of the numerical labels for colors which produce particular visual effects. By combining the possibilities of color with the variations of geometric form, Bradley invented his own artistic palette.

The IU Art Museum has an extensive web module dedicated to the collection, with a background essay written by Rachel Huizinga that I have found indispensable.

I recommend exploring the web module; however, the proper way to experience these sculptures is in person. There are a few in the Wells Library and the Art Museum itself and many more in the graduate wing of the Kelley and the Law Library. I encourage you to check them out.

Maybe then I won’t be the only one staring at the ceiling.


E-mail: brownjoh@indiana.edu