Untitled 1947

This painting was made by Mark Rothko, with oil on canvas. The creamy whites, reds, and blacks seem to push and pull, hovering in a state of becoming. I can imagine Rothko building up these layers, scraping back, starting again – a constant back and forth. I wonder what he was thinking? Perhaps he was like me when I paint, caught between control and letting go, between intention and accident. That black swoosh diving in from the top left makes me think of a bird diving, or maybe a question mark. The red areas feel like anchors, holding the composition down, but also vibrating with energy. Rothko’s paintings are part of an ongoing discussion between artists, a dialogue that stretches across time and space. Like all painters, he was in conversation with the past, but also pushing towards something new. He knew how to embrace ambiguity, and to see painting as embodied expression.