Untitled by Mark Rothko, 1960
The other day I went
out with Mark Rothko. And by that I mean that I saw his painting in real life
for the first time.
I had already heard a
lot about him before and because of that I was very anxious. Jackson Pollock
told me: “Come on Paula, you like Abstract expressionism, right? So…You’ll love
my boy Mark.”
Simon Schama told me
all about him. How it was difficult growing up as a Jew in Russia. How his real
name is Rothkowitz but he changed it to Rothko because of the rising
anti-semitism. His struggles to paint the Seagram murals and to free color from
form. How tortured he was and how he was inspired by Greek tragedies and
Nietzsche.
It was with great
expectations that I saw the above painting.
I had everything to
like it. Willem de Kooning stood behind us smiling and whispering: “I think
they’ll get along”.
But something wasn’t
right. Do you know that Seinfeld episode where a girl breaks up with Jerry
because she didn’t like his comedy act? It’s what happened between me and Rothko.
It seems that his personality
and who he was (or at least who we think he was) are more interesting than his
art. I stared at the painting asking: “What do you mean?” Rothko stared back angrily asking: “What do you mean?”
I guess it wasn’t meant
to be.
What do you think of Rothko’s
paintings? Have you ever liked an artist’s personality more than his art?
You can watch Simon Schama's documentary on Rothko here and the Seinfeld episode here (This Monday just keeps getting better and better huh?)
UPDATE
I've just read this is I. A. Richard's Practical Criticism and believe it applies perfectly here: "There cannot be much doubt that when we know we are reading Milton or Shelley, a great deal of our approval and admiration is being accorded not to the poetry but to an idol. (...) Far more than we like to admit, we take a hint for our response from the poet's reputation". p. 297
UPDATE
I've just read this is I. A. Richard's Practical Criticism and believe it applies perfectly here: "There cannot be much doubt that when we know we are reading Milton or Shelley, a great deal of our approval and admiration is being accorded not to the poetry but to an idol. (...) Far more than we like to admit, we take a hint for our response from the poet's reputation". p. 297
