Mark Rothko In An Age of Consumerism
By: Bea Kanika
Tags: Childhood, Consumerism, Abstract Expressionism, Rothko, Art

Mark Rothko is an American artist who came to prominence in the 50s-60s. Rothko is best known for filling the canvas with very few but intense colours, using little immediately-apparent detail. The perfunctory description of Rothko’s work would be: two or three rectangles of colour with soft edges. However, the accurate representation would be: raw vulnerability. Rothko’s works have been known to bring people to tears.

Figure 1: My sister’s Rothko imitation

Rothko’s works look deceptively simple. It is the kind of art which has you discerning, a kid could do that. Funnily enough, those were my mother’s exact thoughts. My first exposure to Rothko was as a six-year-old. My mother had passed me and my sisters a book on Rothko’s art, and had given us free access to her painting materials. She instructed us to have fun mimicking Rothko’s style. This was not an intimidating exercise — after all, we had colours and we knew how to draw rectangles. Once we were done, my mother selected my sister’s works to display. From that day on, our house proudly hung Rothko imitations, encircled by blazing golden frames.

Figure 2: Rothko’s Green on Blue Landscape

Yet, one can easily observe the differences between my sister’s imitation and an authentic Rothko painting. My sister’s strokes are coarse and uneven, there is no smooth evenness within each coloured shape. She also fails to softly edge the transition between colours, and her demarcations are imprecise. The result is a work that is clearly juvenile. However, even when Rothko’s work is compared to a poor imitation like this one, his work does not appear masterful per se. Rothko’s paintings do not show off, they simply evoke a transcendental sort of feeling which leaves you itching for meaning.

In today’s age of consumerism, it is likely that Rothko’s paintings would go ignored. A fleeting glance of dulled colours on colours is not the sort of glittering image which would garner likes on Instagram. I cannot help but think that a great majority of us are actually too desensitized to be moved by Rothko’s colour palettes. We somehow need bold, saturated colours of tragedy to speak to our sentimentalities. Or opulent celebrity endorsements to appeal to our affections. Fashion and design, have become “aesthetic” or “edgy” in order to grab our attention. Even the personal lives we curate on social media today are mechanical, and manufactured. We mindlessly judge peers and swipe away. However, to appreciate a Rothko painting, we need to slowly contemplate, and let it seep into our souls.

In a very different way from social media, the purpose of Rothko’s paintings is also their visceral impact. The main difference is that we need to first ponder the Rothko painting, before it can become provocative. A Rothko painting has the same characteristics as Schrodinger’s cat, it exists as long as the audience is around to appreciate it. Without an audience, its purpose evaporates. We as vulnerable individuals, have to face the Rothko painting, and give ourselves in to an uncontrollable outpouring of emotions. It is these very emotions that were evoked, which proceed to define Rothko’s paintings. Rothko himself, described his own paintings as “basic human emotions”. His art pieces’ drape human emotions on their coloured canvases.

“A picture lives by companionship, expanding and quickening in the eyes of the sensitive observer. It dies by the same token.” — Mark Rothko

Despite what people say, Rothko’s works are by no means pretentious. Pretentiousness is a word, often abused by individuals who want to excuse their inability to contemplate. Their lack of trying. It has become a dirty word, an insult used to validate the mindless consumption of things, experiences and even art. It is a dangerous criticism because it mongers fear of the ambiguous. Yet, ambiguity is a defining feature of life. We are each complex individuals, with interwoven traits that are ambiguous, uncertain and completely unpredictable. To illustrate further: at any point of time, we are not just one emotion, we can be ‘angry’, ‘sad’, ‘jealous’ and ‘nostalgic’. Perhaps it is the explanation of Rothko that is pretentious, but by no means the paintings themselves. Each Rothko painting is a living, breathing reflection of the human heart. It is confusing, and vulnerable. There are no easy ways to explain any specific Rothko painting. One can only gaze at it, and contemplate in awe.

A Rothko painting cannot, and should not be weaponized. This was a point discussed in John Logan’s play, “Red”, which imagined the reasons Rothko withdrew “The Seagram Murals” from display in the Four Seasons restaurant in New York City. One of the reasons that John Logan posits is that Rothko could not possibly weaponize his paintings, they are too vulnerable. His paintings were not meant to spitefully educate the oppressive, capitalist magnates in New York City. Today, “The Seagram Murals” are in the Tate gallery, displayed as Rothko intended, in a compact room with subtle lighting.

Rothko’s refusal to weaponize his own art is what makes his work unique in a consumerist world today that is obsessed with making ‘statements’ for people to lap up. The weaponization of art has never been uncommon — artists frequently exploit outlandish and controversial statements to make political points. Rothko’s works, on the other hand, do not preach nor compete. Instead, they evoke a tide of emotions which help us treasure the common human vulnerability we have. The fact that Bremainers prefer abstract pieces like Rothko’s is a testament to the inclusive attitude which Rothko reflects/ evokes. Perhaps by taking a Rothko-esque perspective which help us focus on the oneness of being human, we can inch towards human solidarity.

It is the dead of winter in June in Melbourne. I walk into the MOMA exhibit in the Melbourne National Gallery. The Rothko piece is placed in the abstract expressionism section, right next to the Pollock piece. While the Pollock is a series of frenzied movement, the Rothko painting is placid. I observe how the solid black somehow melds into the tangy orange encircling it, yet it is also balanced by stripes of white, fuchsia and green. The Rothko painting whispers in the crowd, silently yearning. Shadows and figures hurry past it, while it waits for me to listen.