A Fork in The Road: Untitled

7:00 AM

A Fork in The Road
Decision Made in Art
Curated by Sydney Reed

Mark Rothko, Untitled, 1969

The correct way to view a Rothko painting is directly in front of it. Not so close that your breath reaches the layers upon layers of paint, but not so far that you can see the boring, beige walls of the gallery in your peripheral. Once the perfect position has been achieved, the next step is to stare and let your feelings lead the way. Cheesy, yes, but after a minute, the painting will take over. What seemed to be blocks of solid colors from a distance begin to move, revealing the brushstrokes that portray movement, depth, feeling. Certain paintings reveal deep, dark chasms of color, while other colors almost appear to be rising out of the painting. Each viewer interprets a Rothko painting in their own manner, deciding for themselves not whether the painting is good or not, but whether the painting makes them feel something, and if so, what. The viewer often has to make some sort of decision when standing in front of a painting, the most common being whether they like it or not, but some artists go beyond that basic decision and push the viewer to interpret the painting according to their own feelings, not just what they see.

Rothko capitalized on this ability to create art that caused the viewer to stare, reflect, and feel. Rothko conducted a particular process when creating his art, painting layer upon layer, creating a variety of strokes, and often sitting in front of the canvas for hours pondering what the painting meant to him and what it could mean to others. Rothko wasn’t creating art to be sold and hung above the fireplace, but was creating masterpieces that had specific lighting, placement and viewing requirements in order to fully grasp the true talent and message of the painting. He was particular about where his art went, constantly concerned that the art would be ridiculed, and wanted to send it to “a place of reflection and safety,” according to John Logan’s Red, a play that explores Rothko’s talent.

I believe that part of Rothko’s concerns derived from a worry that people wouldn’t just ridicule the art because they didn’t like it, but because they didn’t understand it. If Rothko didn’t instruct people the correct way to hang and view the art, they could completely miss the enchantment of the brushstrokes. And if they missed this element of the painting, the viewer wouldn’t have the ability to decide how the painting made them feel, an element I believe in an integral part of Rothko’s art.

When I first looked at the painting above, I noticed how the light blue almost appears to be a sphere, rotating towards the back of the painting, as if I was standing on a planet looking over the rolling horizon. But the more I zoomed in and looked closer, the clearer the brushstrokes appeared, and the line where the colors meet began to move. I felt engulfed by the painting, and found myself feeling relieved. The contrast between the almost black purple and the lighter shades of blue are serene, but that’s just how I interpret this work of art. That’s my decision about the painting, a radically different decision than what most others will feel. So I challenge you to zoom into this painting and observe how it makes you feel, and form your own decision about Rothko’s art. 


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