Humanities post #7

The first time I saw a Mark Rothko painting in class, I fell in love with his beautiful abstractions. I am fairly picky about the abstract art I enjoy, although my tastes have become broader since I began taking humanities classes. However, I didn't need to stretch my limits to accept Rothko's works as art: his incredible sense of the tender balance in colors between contrast and harmony, and his ability to gracefully sculpt the connections between colors (creating simultaneous definition and blurring) amaze me.

Rothko believed that his paintings were inherently spiritual. They were intended to create in the viewer a sense of something more than just an appreciation of his fusing of colors. In order to facilitate this type of deeper appreciation, Rothko did many of his colorfield paintings on huge canvases, and had them hung as low to the ground as possible. He even suggested that viewers stand as close as 18 inches from the painting, in order to feel immersed in the work. Essentially, he wanted his art to be experienced, not just observed. As an admirer of his work, I wish I had the opportunity to stand that close to an original. Even just seeing little thumbnails on a google image search, I have begun to feel some of the inner movement that I think intended viewers to experience.

To me, that inner motion comes in the form of music. I see music in his paintings; and after all, why not? There are some abstract painters (such as Wassily Kandinsky) believe there is a very strong connection between abstract painting and music. The blocks of color in Rothko's works shape themselves into chords and harmonies when I view them. For example:


I hear the lonely wail of a cornet over a solemn drumbeat; an elegy to the fallen soldiers in a battle.

I hear the thrill of a celebratory may-pole dance.

And I hear the beautiful interplay between a throbbing cello and the soft echoes of a vast concert hall.

To me, this undeniable musicality marks incredible talent. It proves to me that Rothko wasn't just slapping on some colors and blurring the edges a little bit. He could feel the colors, and understood the emotional interplay between various hues. He knew that the human mind is deeper than "blue and white" or "orange, blue, and yellow." I appreciate that. I appreciate that Rothko allows me to see myself in his works, and strives to help me come to a deeper understanding of what is inside of me.