Mark Rothko

There aren’t many visual artists who move me on as profound a level as does music- which isn’t to say that I don’t find visual art beautiful, simply that there is very little of it which I find stirring in a visceral sense. Mark Rothko’s colour field paintings- in particular the Seagram Murals- do just that, however. I don’t mean the reproductions- the very existence of Rothko posters seems to me to be almost an insult to his work, to retain the surface but neglect the essence of the objects themselves- the sheer physical presence of these huge, sombre canvases is as important as the arrangement of colours on their surfaces, and while they initially appear simple, these are in fact hugely complex and subtle works- and I’m never quite sure *how* they achieve their impact, but I am never left in any doubt, almost immediately upon entering the rooms where they hang in muted lighting, that they do achieve an impact of almost religious intensity.

These aren’t pretty or beautiful paintings in any conventional sense- at first sight many seem to be simply dull fields of brown or black,or simple orange shapes, but these geometrical devices simply act as frames, and as one’s eyes grow accustomed to the paintings, the sheer depth of the works become apparent, drawing the eye in and expressing… it’s difficult to say exactly what. Perhaps Rothko’s critics are right and this art simply doesn’t *express* anything, but not in the sense of being empty- it’s simply that the paintings seem somehow to transcend the expression of emotion and go into another, more profound realm- it’s perhaps more appropriate to compare the experience to that of staring into the night sky than it is to most other artworks- they seem in some manner to tap into, to resonate with, the deep structure of the world, or the human mind,or both.