Ochre and Red on Red 1957

Mark Rothko made "Ochre and Red on Red" with oil paint and canvas, though when or where exactly is a bit of a mystery, isn't it? What strikes me is the way Rothko builds these hazy, layered rectangles. They're not precise, are they? More like color fields bleeding into each other, a process of layering and adjusting. Look closely, and you'll notice how the top ochre rectangle almost floats above the lower red one. The paint isn't thickly applied, but you can still sense the texture of the canvas beneath, and the way he's dragged the brushstrokes horizontally. It’s like he’s trying to capture a feeling, or a mood, rather than a specific image. The whole thing shimmers, like a Rothko. The edges of the rectangles are soft, almost dissolving. It reminds me of the paintings of Agnes Martin; there is something so human about the imperfection. Ultimately, it's up to us to decide what it means. Maybe that's the point; art is not about answers, but questions.