Mark Rothko said that art is the language of the spirit, and he referred to his paintings as the most brutal in America. Retrospective of the works of one of the most important representatives of abstract expressionism is on view at the Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris.
The Rothko effect
To explain why Mark Rothko's exhibition is so important to me, I need to go back to April 15, 2015, in New York. The date is etched in my memory because it marked a personal turning point. When exploring New York galleries, I was focused on all things figurative. I was interested in what was rationally explainable, easy to label, and visually familiar. I spent that particular day at the Museum of Modern Art. An afternoon meeting I had scheduled got postponed by 2 hours. It was cold and rainy, so when I saw information about an exhibition of abstract expressionists, I thought, "since I'm already here...". I don't remember if the room with Rothko's works was the first one I entered that day. I also can't recall if it had a round shape or if the unexpected experience distorted my memory. To this day, I cannot fully describe that feeling when I sensed that the content of one of his paintings was enveloping me closely. The experience was so powerful that it frightened me, and I left the room. A few minutes of inexplicable, overwhelming emotion was quite a lot for someone who advocated for understanding the world through reason. Seeking a rational point of reference, I looked at the artist's nameplate. Mark Rothko. The man who revolutionized not only my approach to art but, decades earlier, the entire art world.
Figurativeness and myth
Before Mark Rothko became a symbol of American abstraction, he was involved in figurative painting. The exhibition, composed of 115 works, opens with paintings from the 1930s and 1940s in which the human figure both dominates and evolves. The earliest works depict scenes from everyday life, with the most famous ones set in the New York subway, where unnaturally elongated figures, conveying the aura of solitude despite being surrounded by a crowd, appear to submit to architectural order. There’s also a self-portrait from 1936, in which the 33-year-old Rothko hides his gaze behind dark glasses. The lack of eye contact reminds me that, through his paintings, the artist encouraged the introspection. I feel torn. On one hand, I immediately want to see familiar abstractions, but on the other, it's hard for me to ignore my curiosity about how Rothko's art evolved. In the early 1940s, anonymous figures were replaced by nameable, mythological characters, subjected to various forms of surrealist deformation. Myth, especially Greek mythology, was Rothko's key to collective understanding of how the world is ordered and functions. It provided a reference point for the universality of values, experiences, or interactions with others. Myth also spoke of the tragedy of human existence, of which Rothko was acutely aware. The brutality of the Jewish pogroms from which the artist's family fled Latvia to the USA and the cruelty of war influenced his figurative expression. Discovering what’s lesser-known to me about the painter is interrupted by the painting "Untitled" from 1939. I see something very characteristic for Rothko's later work in it. Perhaps it's in the composition itself, or maybe in the form of suspension between surface and abyss, darkness and light, in which the figures are presented. Figures that he would soon decide to completely erase from his paintings.
Abstraction
Figurativeness disappeared from Rothko's paintings in the second half of the 1940s. As the painter's son, Christopher Rothko, writes in the exhibition catalog, this wasn't a change of direction, but of a tool for a more direct exploration of the human condition and the emotional impact on the viewer. The goal remained the same: to focus on universal existential questions. However, Rothko didn't aim to provide equally universal answers. He treated his paintings as tools for viewers to discover what was most important to them within themselves. In order for these tools to be as effective as possible, Rothko began painting abstractions on larger canvases. He stated that large formats make it easier to create an atmosphere of intimacy. I still think about the exhibition from 8 years ago, and it's precisely that intimacy that I would like to feel again. In search of familiar experiences, I move to the paintings from the so-called classic period, which began in the 1950s. Intense colors and ephemeral, juxtaposed 2 or 3 rectangular forms with fading edges - there is no doubt about their author. I delve into the specifics of the distinctive signs by looking at "Untitled (Red, Black, White on Yellow)" from 1955. Although Rothko's paintings are attributed with metaphysical properties, I like that he did not try to strip them from their material dimensions, confirmation of which I see in the titles, consisting of a list of colors used in each work. The colors themselves had secondary importance for him; he did not seek symbolism in them but a way to bring out light. I can feel how easy it is to forget about the color as I stand in front of the aforementioned "Untitled." Rothko expected viewers to dedicate time and actively engage in looking. With each passing minute, I sense my engagement intensifying involuntarily. I see the titular red less and less, and increasingly, the content of the painting seems to separate from the canvas and, as it did years ago, tightly envelop me. Logical analysis comes to an end, and a wave of emotions that are difficult to unequivocally name begins to surface. The Rothko effect, despite playing with the imagination, is not imaginary.
Darkness and light
Rothko's body of work was created with limited but consciously operated means. Some of my favorite paintings by the artist come from the series "Blackforms" from 1964. Seemingly monochromatic, created from various combinations of browns, reds, purples, or blacks, they require even greater engagement and attentiveness. The nuances of color reveal themselves to those who decide to subject them to the test of time and demanding conditions in the space - Rothko carefully manipulated light not only on but also beyond the canvas and insisted on displaying his works in relatively dimly lit spaces. The artist always frowned at those who saw peacefulness in his works; he claimed that they were born from the tears resulting from human tragedy. While my mind accepts this argument, my body still experiences a great sense of peace in front of the "Blackforms." I don’t let go of this feeling, in the end it was Rothko himself who wanted people to look within. I wonder if my state, stemming from an acknowledgment of the specificity of the human condition and an acceptance that clearly perceived tragedy is an integral part of it, arises from a desire to live nonetheless. I wonder what Rothko would say about that.
Before leaving, I return once more to the figurative painting "Untitled" from 1939. I now understand why it seemed so harmonious with Rothko's later work. In the following years, the artist erased the figure, suspended between light and darkness, and made room for the search of humanity.
The exhibition "Mark Rothko" is on view until April 2, 2024, at the Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris.